


Truth or Dare

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-29
Updated: 1999-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a camping trip, a game of Truth or Dare gets out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Due to length, this story has been split into two parts.

## Truth or Dare

By Rainy Day

Author's homepage: <http://members.aol.com/rainy1666/page/index.htm>

Rating: NC-17 

Pairings: J/B 

Warnings: Graphic m/m sexual depictions. 

Notes: Waves to Paulette and to she who suggested the POV change. Special thanks to Tex for not giving up on me despite a rotten first-draft. Virtual kisses to Maeg, without whom my web-site would have been an embarrassing affair at best. No spoilers. No condom use. If you're under eighteen, beat it or I'll squeal to your folks. 

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ , its characters, concepts and history belong to UPN and Pet Fly Productions. This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction, created solely for the private enjoyment of _Sentinel_ fans. This story may not be sold, published, publicly displayed or archived without express permission from the author. 

* * *

Truth or Dare - part one  
By Rainy Day 

  

"Oh, man. This is unreal." 

Jim had to agree. Indeed, he was beginning to suspect he would be old and gray by the time they reached their destination. 

It was a beautiful day in Cascade; perfect weather for a long weekend getaway. Unfortunately, Jim mused, everyone else seemed to think so, too. The line of cars seemed to stretch on into infinity. Even with his Sentinel sight, Jim could see no end to them. They had been stuck in the same place for so long the big man had actually put the truck into "Park." 

The curly-haired man beside him sighed mournfully and muttered, "Are we ever gonna move?" 

Blair had been muttering variations of these same phrases for the better part of an hour and his repetitiveness was beginning to wear on Jim's nerves. Despite the fact that being trapped alone with his roommate mirrored the start of Jim's every secret, late-night fantasy, he now wished he'd not insisted on the 'all play and no work' weekend. If Blair had something constructive to do, he wouldn't be so intent upon getting on Jim's last nerve. With a calm patience born of long years in the military waiting for orders to come through, Jim continued to stare straight ahead and said nothing. 

Shifting in his seat, Blair pushed at the shoulder harness of his seatbelt absently. The moment he released the belt, it promptly snapped back into place, smacking at the lower portion of his bare neck with a stinging "thwack!" Wrestling with the seatbelt as if it were trying to strangle him, Blair suddenly grunted with annoyance and removed it. 

"Put it back on." Jim didn't bother looking at the younger man. 

Blair glanced at the retracted seatbelt. "Why?" 

"We're on the Interstate, Chief." 

"But we're not moving." 

"Doesn't matter. It's the law. Put it back on." 

Undaunted, Blair pointed to the dashboard. "We're in 'Park,' aren't we?" 

"Well...yeah. But...." 

"So if we're in Park, we're not technically driving. Hence, it's not illegal." 

Blair-logic. The Sentinel had long ago discovered he had no definitive defense against Blair-logic. No matter what an argument was about, whenever they fought, Jim somehow found himself fighting on Blair's terms. Frowning in exasperation, Jim decided he wasn't in the mood for battle in the Sandburg Zone. "Fine, but the second we start moving again, the seatbelt goes back on." 

"Sure thing, Jim," Blair agreed placatingly. 

There were two full minutes of blessedly peaceful calm, then Blair started fidgeting with renewed vigor. Jim knew it was Blair's natural hyperactivity that made his Guide shift constantly and wiggle in his seat. Confining Blair anywhere was enough to make the man half-crazed. But then, being in close quarters with a confined Blair was no picnic, either. 

"Stop wiggling, Sandburg. It's not gonna make traffic move any faster." 

"I'm not _wiggling_. I'm justrestless. No, I'm bored. I am _so_ bored, I'm gonna go insane! Whatta ya think's going on up there, anyway?" 

Glancing over at his partner at last, Jim watched as Blair looked out over the sea of cars on the Interstate, squinting as if he would be able to make out what held up traffic. Jim didn't bother pointing out that if _he_ couldn't see what was blocking traffic, Blair would never be able to. 

"Oh, man. This is, like, _so_ unreal!" Blair complained again. "Whose idea was it to go camping on Labor Day weekend, anyway?" 

Jim frowned at his companion. Blair knew very well whose idea it was. Jim's patience, which he had discovered limits to only since his young friend moved in with him three years ago, finally snapped. "This wouldn't have happened if we'd left at four like I'd wanted," Jim groused at him. 

"Come on, Jim, I didn't even get to bed until two! If I hadn't finished writing those syllabi before we left, I wouldn't have been able to come along at all. Cut me some slack, man." 

Jim relented. "Sorry, Chief. I know you're busy with the school and the station and all. It's no one's fault. Let's just make the best of it, okay?" Jim gave Blair what he hoped was a conciliatory smile and relaxed when Blair smiled back. 

"Okay. I'm sure we can find something constructive to do. I know we agreed to total 'R and R,' but I really wish I'd brought my laptop. Hey!" Blair continued without waiting for an answering comment, "Maybe we could run some tests...." 

"Forget it, Chief. We're on vacation, remember?" 

"Okay, then. Why don't we play a game?" Blair grinned up at the Sentinel hopefully and explained, "That's what my Mom and I used to do on long road-trips when I was a kid. It was a lot of fun!" 

Jim gave his roommate a side-long glance. "A game? What, like 'I Spy With My Little Eye'? No thanks, Chief." 

"Oh, no way! I always hated that game. I'm talking about something more interesting. Truth or Dare!" 

"Don't you think we're a little old for kid's games, Chief?" 

"It doesn't have to be a kid's game. We could put an adult spin on it!" 

"'An adult spin'?" Jim asked, amused. "This your way of finding out about my sex life, Chief?" he teased. 

Blair snorted, "Can't find out about something that doesn't exist, man." 

Jim scowled and tried to cuff his companion on the side of the head, but Blair had anticipated the move. Ducking away in plenty of time to avoid the swat, Blair stretched his back lethargically and leaned heavily against the passenger-side door. Restrained by the seatbelt he'd stoically insisted upon wearing, Jim couldn't reach him. Blair smirked victoriously. 

Giving his partner a half-hearted scowl, the big man shook his head affectionately, but with a practiced air of exasperation. 

"You want to get me back?" the smaller man teased, smiling. Jim, who assumed this to be a rhetorical question, said nothing. As if Jim had responded in the affirmative, Blair continued, "Then it'll have to be in Truth or Dare. Come on, Jim, it'll be fun!" 

"It would be pretty hard to do dares stuck in the truck, Chief," Jim responded, frowning at the traffic jam once again. 

"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure I could figure something out," Blair smiled wickedly and alarms went off in Jim's head. He knew that look. It was the look Blair got when he was up to no good. 

"Forget it, Chief. If I know you, you'll dare me to moon the car next to us." 

"No, I won't. There are kids in that car. Wouldn't want to warp their minds or make 'em grow up feeling inadequate, or something." 

Inadequate? What was _that_ supposed to mean? Jim glanced over at his partner, but Blair just looked back at him innocently. Jim frowned. Blair didn't usually go around complimenting other guys on their.... Jim shook off the thought. Blair obviously didn't mean anything by that. He couldn't. He was probably just trying to get a rise out of Jim. It was just Jim's mind reading something into nothing--telling him what he wanted to hear--turning everything Blair said into some kind of sexual innuendo. 

"Hey, I've got it!" Blair crowed with a snap of his fingers. "We could agree on dares ahead of time. I know, we'll combine the game with Twenty Questions. We each get twenty and our last questions end the game. For dares, the one who refuses to answer has to make breakfast on the next day it's not his turn. Whoever ends up with the fewest breakfast-making days wins. Agreed?" 

Jim tilted his head, considering. He didn't like idea of answering questions that might betray his feelings for his partner. But then, it was unlikely his _feelings_ would become a topic of serious consideration. Besides, this could be an excellent medium with which to gauge the other man's responses to things he never talked about. The perfect way to discover the answers to questions he'd never before been able to ask. It might be his only chance to get to know the inner-Blair--the Blair he'd glimpsed only on rare occasions. 

Aloud, Jim responded, "Since you're the one with all the secrets, you'll end up with all the breakfasts, Chief. Unless you ask me something classified from my military days, I won't bother taking any dares. I have nothing to hide. You sure you wanna play this game?" 

Blair nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, it'll be fun!" 

Jim shrugged and tried to look bored. "Okay, Chief. You go first." 

"Okay. How old were you the first time you did it?" 

Jim looked sideways at Blair and cocked an eyebrow. "'It,' Chief?" 

"Come on, Jim," Blair laughed, "You know what I mean. The first time you had sex." 

Jim frowned. "I not sure I want to play the 'Sandburg Version' of Truth or Dare," the Sentinel grumbled and assessed the traffic before them once again. 

"Too late, you already agreed to play. You don't wanna have to make twenty breakfasts, do you? But," Blair shrugged and glanced out the window with what was clearly an attempt at an indifferent air, "if you're _that_ afraid of questions, I guess I could let you off the hook...." 

Jim scowled, aware he was being baited, but unable to ignore the challenge, nonetheless. "Wait, before we start...why are you asking? You planning on putting this information in your thesis? 'The Sex Lives of Sentinels,' or something?" 

Blair looked surprised. "No way! I wouldn't do that! Tell you what, nothing we say goes beyond this weekend. Once it's over, we can never even refer to each other's answers again--not even in jest--let alone tell anyone else. And we both have to tell the absolute truth. So if you can't be _totally_ honest about something, you _have_ to take a breakfast. Agreed?" 

Jim hesitated, then nodded and looked out the window as he said, "Eighteen." 

"What?" Blair frowned. 

Jim cleared his throat, then clarified, "I was eighteen the first time." 

"Oh! Eighteen? Whoa! A late bloomer, huh?" 

Jim looked into his partner's laughing blue eyes and frowned indignantly. "I had a very strict upbringing. Besides, it's not all _that_ late! I mean, how old were you, Romeo?" 

"Fifteen. My turn again." 

"Wait a minute! That wasn't my question!" 

"Sure it was. You asked, I answered. Now I get a question." 

Jim bridled. So that was the way Sandburg wanted to play the game, huh? No problem. Two could play it that way. 

Blair pondered for a moment longer, then asked, "What was the weirdest place you ever did it?" 

Forced to put his retaliatory plan on hold while he cast about for an answer, Jim glanced down at the dashboard, eyebrows knitting as he quietly considered. The fact that he had to think about his answer appeared to be a surprise to his companion. Evidently, Blair had expected him to say "In a car," or something equally mundane, and Jim felt a momentary flush of pride as he watched a look of surprise slowly replace the amusement that had thus far dominated his Guide's ever-expressive countenance. 

He drew the moment out, reveling in the notion that Blair now suspected his partner of being a man of much greater experience than he let on. It was what his ex-wife would have called "a macho-thing." This thought brought the answer to the forefront of the big man's mind and he shifted in his seat, slightly embarrassed despite his pride in having shocked the world-wise Blair. "Um. In an airplane, I guess." 

Blair's eyes grew large. "In an airplane? James Ellison, Mr. Upright Citizen, doing it in an airplane?" Obviously, Blair couldn't picture it. Jim felt his ego falter, far more bothered by his Guide's incredulity than he'd ever let the younger man know. 

Waving off his partner's reaction absently, the Sentinel just snorted benignly and nodded agreeably, remarking, in his most offhand tone, "I was a lot younger then." Inwardly, Jim glowered at the disbelief in his partner's eyes. Face it, Ellison, Jim told himself sternly, he thinks you're a stodgy old cop, too repressed to take chances and too old to be spontaneous: Old, repressed and set in your ways--everything Blair was not. 

A bloom of anger blossomed in his chest. While the Sentinel knew his Guide had no clue his feelings went beyond brotherly affection, Jim still felt, irrationally, as if Blair were rubbing his nose in it. His partner was having the time of his young life at Jim's expense. Time to turn the tables on him, Jim thought. Time to put one disbelieving, curly-haired anthropologist in the hot-seat, blast him with a spotlight and watch him squirm. The best defense is a good offense, Jim reminded himself, and you'd better take the offensive fast, before you give yourself away. 

Even as his feelings whirled, Jim considered his question carefully. It wasn't simply a personal question; it was a question that, Jim was certain, Blair had never asked himself. If Jim's live-for-the-moment partner were to be totally honest in his response--and Blair had, after all, made the rules himself--he would have to look deeply into his heart and admit to them both what one thing could actually hook the man and reel him in. 

"So tell me, Chief," Jim began mildly, turning in his seat to meet his Guide's eyes, "What would it take to make 'Love 'em and Leave 'em Sandburg' finally settle down and commit to one person?" 

As he'd expected, Blair was somewhat taken aback by the question. He was quiet for so long Jim thought he wouldn't, or possibly couldn't, answer. But before Jim could speak, Blair lowered his eyes, regarded his feet for a long moment, then answered softly, "Love." 

Jim stared in surprise at the suddenly still figure beside him, unbalanced by the softly spoken word, but Blair's expression was unreadable. "You mean you've never been in love, Chief?" 

Blair looked back at Jim impassively. "I didn't say that. And it's my turn. Um, who was it?" 

"Who was who?" Jim asked absently, still thinking of Blair's answer to the last question. 

"The girl who could make Jim Ellison flout convention and do it on an airplane." 

"Oh. Carolyn." 

"Rats! I should have figured that out. What a waste of a question." 

"We were on our way to Aruba for our honeymoon. Got a little carried away on the plane and snuck off the bathroom." Jim was relaxing now and telling his tale like an anecdote. "We hit turbulence just when...well, you know. It was kind of...too late to stop. We had so many bruises we were too embarrassed to be seen in swimsuits on the beach!" Jim gave his friend a crooked grin. 

Blair laughed. "Oh, man! That's hysterical, Jim! Gods, I wish I'd known you then. You know, when you were young and spontaneous. Still sowing your wild oats and all that. Boy, we coulda painted the town red!" 

"Who says my oat-sowing days are over?" Jim asked indignantly. "My sex life isn't as dull as you think it is," Jim informed his friend imperiously. "I still have an oat or two." 

Blair laughed, amused by his friend's phraseology. "Do you?" 

"Damn right I do!" 

"Well, be sure to let me know when you're ready to sow 'em, man!" 

"You'll be the first," the big man quipped and Blair looked at him sharply. Jim gulped. Had he really just said that? "So," Jim tired to cover by distracting Blair with a question, "have you ever been in love, Casanova?" 

Blair gave him a strange look and answered simply, "Yes. My turn. Um. Have you ever been with a guy?" 

Jim choked, then rounded on his friend. "Just what's _that_ supposed to mean, Sandburg? You trying to find out if I'm secretly gay? Is that what this game is about?" 

"Calm down, Jim. I wasn't trying to insinuate anything. I was just curious. And no matter what your answer is, it doesn't matter. Sleeping with a guy doesn't necessarily make a man gay, just like _not_ sleeping with guys doesn't necessarily make a man straight. Naomi always says that's everyone's really bisexual. Just programmed by society. Conditioned." 

"And you agree with that?" 

Blair shrugged, "I don't know. But it's certainly a viable theory. Sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You don't have to answer. We can just forget the game, okay?" 

Jim realized that not answering would only make Blair think there was something from his past he was trying to hide, and that wasn't true. He didn't know why it was important that Blair know he'd never been with a man, but it was. "It's okay, Blair. I just thought...." Jim shook his head. "No. The answer to your question is 'No.'" Jim took a deep breath, not entirely sure he wanted to ask the same question of Blair--not sure he could deal with the answer. He cleared his throat and as casually as possible, asked, "Have you?" 

"Have I what?" Blair asked, puzzled. He looked preoccupied. 

"Have you ever...you knowwith a guy," Jim looked straight ahead, trying not to sound like he cared. 

"Would it bother you if I had?" 

"Why should it? And it's not your turn. Answer the question." 

"Um. No. I've never _slept_ with a guy." 

Jim looked over at his roommate speculatively. Blair had put a strange emphasis on the word 'slept.' "I thought we had to tell the truth here, Sandburg." 

Blair frowned, "I _am_ telling the truth. I said I've never slept with a guy. I didn't say I never dated one." 

Jim turned in his seat. "You _dated_ a GUY?" He hadn't meant that to come out sounding so accusatory. 

Blair ran a hand through his hair, trying to hide his blush. "Yeah, well. It was a long time ago. He asked me out and I guess I wanted to see if.... Well...it didn't work out." 

"You wanted to see if you were gay," Jim deduced. He spoke softly. Sandburg was already spooked. 

The younger man nodded slowly, "Or bisexual. Or whatever." 

"What happened?" 

"He kissed me." 

Jim waited, but when Blair appeared unwilling to add more, he prompted, "And?" 

Blair shrugged and looked over at his partner somewhat apprehensively. "And nothing. No fireworks. No earth-shaking sexual realizations. No nothing. I kinda decided...." Blair waved a hand. 

"That you weren't. Bisexual or whatever," Jim repeated Blair's earlier words and made his friend smile. 

"Yeah. I guess." 

"You guess?" 

Blair waved off the question. "My turn again. Have you ever been attracted to a man?" he asked cautiously. 

Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He could lie. Blair wasn't a Sentinel. He'd never know. It would be easy. Jim opened his mouth to say "No," but what came out was, "Breakfast." 

"What?" 

"I'll take a breakfast." 

Blair stared at his friend, clearly shocked. "Whoa," he said in amazement. "Are you trying to say...." 

Jim sent his Guide a withering glare. "I'm not trying to say anything," he spat, confused by the dirty trick his mind had played on him. "I thought that was the point of breakfast. So you don't have to answer either way. Don't try to make it mean something." 

Blair nodded, looking somewhat chastised. 

Jim decided he'd had more than enough of being on the awkward end of the questions. Time to take the offensive. He could make Blair just as embarrassed as Blair could make him. Jim smiled evilly to himself and came up with a new line of questioning. "Sowhen was the last time you had sex?" 

"Uh'made love' or 'had sex'?" Blair asked, looking uncomfortable. 

Jim shook his head. "Don't even try to stall with semantics, Chief. Answer the question." 

"Um. Maybe seven months ago." 

"SEVEN MONTHS?!" Blair's face burned. Jim could feel the heat from across the cab. "What about all those women you go out with?" 

"What about 'em?" 

"You're saying you go out with all those women and sometimes stay out all night, but you haven't had sex in seven months?" 

Blair looked angry. "Seven months, two weeks, three days and an odd number of hours, okay?" Blair turned and looked out the window. Jim could see resentment in his friend's faint reflection. He could make out something else, too. Something that looked like hurt. 

"Blair." 

After a moment, "What?" 

"Why?" 

"None of your business, man." 

To say Jim was knocked off-kilter by the discovery of his friend's abstinence would be an enormous understatement. Where was the kid when he stayed out all night? When he came home in the morning smelling of foreign soap and shampoo? Jim stared at his friend's reflection, trying to decide what to say, when he heard the blast of a car horn. Looking up in surprise, he found traffic again moving with close to normal speed. 

"Get your belt on, Chief. We're off." 

Jim watched his best friend fumble with his seatbelt, clearly aware he was under scrutiny. Jim looked ahead, as if now concentrating solely on traffic. As the big man shifted into drive, Blair managed to secure the wayward belt at last. But as they headed for the campground, the detective watched his companion out of the corner of his eye. It seemed this round of Truth or Dare was over. Jim, however, planned to finish the game one way or another. Something was hurting his friend and Jim was determined to figure out what it was. But he would bide his time. Wait for the right moment to get Sandburg talking. 

Jim Ellison was nothing if not patient. This game of Truth or Dare, the Sentinel mused as he guided his truck through the congested holiday traffic, was _far_ from over. 

* * *

Jim woke with a crick in his neck and groaned softly as he sat up. 

"You okay, Jim?" Blair was squinting across the darkened space in the tent, but Jim was sure he could see no more than vague outlines. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just slept in a bad position. I don't think I was built for extensive tent-dwelling." Blair laughed his agreement as Jim tuned-in to their surroundings. He could hear the soft patter of droplets as they hit the nylon dome above them and he glanced up ruefully. "Don't tell me it's _still_ raining?" 

"Worse than ever. Hasn't let up for a minute." 

"What time is it?" Jim yawned. 

Blair glanced at his watch, then frowned. Obviously he could see nothing, so he simply held up his wrist. Jim's sight zeroed in, the distance and dimness no obstacle to Sentinel vision, and told his friend, "After seven." 

Blair sighed, "No fishing for us. Again. Two solid days of rain! Couldn't you tell it was gonna be like this?" 

"What am I, the weather-man?" Tilting his head, the big man tried to stretch out his sore neck and winced indelicately. 

"I mean your senses. Supposedly, the ancient Sentinels were able to tell when a storm was coming. Didn't your senses register the moisture in the air?" 

"My senses can do a lot," Jim groused, "but they can't predict the weather." 

"Hm. I guess the old-time Sentinels had to develop that skill, what with living in outdoor huts, exposed to the elements and all. Protect the tribe by gauging if a tsunami was coming. Stuff like that. I wonder." 

"Don't even think about putting me in the maze, Chief. I'm here to have fun." 

"Oh, yeah. We're really having fun now. Non-stop rain, two inches of mud outside, damp sleeping bags. Tell me," Blair dead-panned, "whose idea was this camping trip again?" 

"Watch it, Sandburg. There's a cold, wet forest out there with your name on it," Jim warned. 

Blair snorted, "Don't I know it. But that's not much of a threat, man. If you don't throw me out, I'm gonna have to leave voluntarily," he sighed regretfully, wrestling with his sneakers. "Call of nature." 

Jim tried to suppress a chuckle, "I prefer to think of it as karma, Chief. That's what you get for giving me such a hard time in the truck on the way up here." 

"Jim Ellison preaching karma?" Blair laughed as he tied his tattered laces. "Now I've heard everything! What's next, you gonna try to explore your feminine side?" 

"I don't _have_ a feminine side, Sandburg." 

" 'Course you do. Everyone does. I'm not trying to impugn your masculinity, or anything. It's simply a matter of being in touch emotionally with the inner...." 

"Didn't you have to go to the bathroom, Sandburg?" Jim tried to head the lecture off at the pass. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Be right back." Blair unzipped the tent-flap part-way and peered out into the gloom suspiciously. With a resigned sigh, he pulled the zipper down the rest of the way and ducked out of the tent just in time for a bright bolt of lightening to decorate the sky, as if to announce the sudden successive increase in the downpour. 

"Oh, man!" Jim heard as he zipped up the tent's nylon entryway, and he paused with it slightly open to shout, "Karma, Chief!" A distant, but exceptionally profane string of curses met this assessment and Jim chuckled to himself as he zipped the flap the last inch and awaited his partner's return. 

It had taken them the better part of Saturday afternoon to pitch the tent and set up camp in the downpour. By the time they'd managed to put together a meal of cold canned food and trail-mix, they'd been more than content to collapse in their damp sleeping bags and await a brighter day. 

It never came. 

They had been trapped in the tent since their arrival without even a deck of cards to help occupy the time. They had already exhausted discussion on every topic from the Jag's chances of making the Championship this year, to how likely it was a second gunman had fired from the grassy knoll. Yet, whenever there was a lapse in the discussion, Jim found his thoughts turning to the surprising revelations to which he'd become privy during their drive to the campsite. With the weather dead-set, as it seemed to be, upon ruining their weekend, there was little else to do. So as the sunrise battled the dank gloom of the storm, Jim watched the dissipating shadows on the tent walls as he again contemplated their impromptu game of Truth or Dare. 

There had been something about not only Blair's responses during the game, but his questions that hovered just below the surface of Jim's awareness--something vaguely disturbing. The stricken look on Blair's face when Jim had asked him about his current sexual adventures was with the Sentinel still. 

'Seven months,' Blair had said through a veil of anger and pain. It had been seven months since his Guide had last been with a woman. This was shocking not simply because the behavior was out of character for Blair, but because during all that time Jim had not caught on. Seven months and he'd never even suspected. Some friend you are, the Sentinel chastised himself. Something is hurting your partner so deeply he practically becomes a monk and you don't even notice! 

No, that wasn't right. Jim always noticed when Blair was gone all night. He never slept well without his Guide's heartbeat to ground him. And despite his best efforts to afford his partner the privacy he deserved, Jim would always find himself covertly cataloguing the smells on the man when he returned in the morning, freshly showered and with a skip in his step. Blair was obviously _trying_ to cover up his new-found chastity. But why? 

A feeling of dread swept over the Sentinel. Was Blair ill? Had his friend contracted some sexually transmitted disease that forced him to abstain to protect others? Blair _was_ impulsive. He could easily have made a mistake, and one mistake was all it took in this imperfect world to earn a death sentence. It would be just like Blair to try to cover up such an illness--especially if there was nothing that could be done to effectively treat it. 

The very thought made Jim feel as if he'd swallowed broken glass and it was all he could do to keep from rushing out into the rain to find his Guide and demand the truth. But that would only make his friend further withdraw. He dare not approach the subject directly, lest his trusted, but somewhat flighty partner cut and run. A subtle approach was needed. 

The game! Yes, that was the answer. They had to finish the game. All Jim had to do was to come up with the right questions. 

A weirdly sucking, alternately smacking sound interrupted his thoughts and Jim unzipped the tent flap slightly to peer out into the gloom. Head down, shoulders hunched, Blair was trudging toward the tent, his unhappy gait rhythmically punctuated by the sounds of wet feet sloshing in mud-laden sneakers. 

"Jim, man. Open up." His partner sounded miserable, but prudence demanded Jim allow only conditional ingress. 

"You're not getting in this tent wearing _those_ muddy sneakers, Chief. Take 'em off." 

Soulful blue eyes rose to meet his. "Come on, Jim! They'll get ruined. Open up. I'm freezing out here!" 

"No way, Blair. Leave 'em outside. They're wet and muddy already. They can't get any worse." 

Blair heaved a mighty sigh and toed off his sneakers, balancing precariously on his toes in the small, still-clean area of the laces. Just as Blair began to sway on his perch, Jim quickly unzipped the flap the rest of the way and, reaching out an arm, pulled Blair into the tent before he lost his balance completely and flopped headlong into the mud. Unprepared for the action, Blair toppled forward instead and Jim ended up flat on his back with an armful of wet, gasping Guide. 

Jim grunted with the impact, the weight of his friend forcing the air from his lungs, and he gasped harshly, trying to catch his breath. Yet even as his body struggled for oxygen, the Sentinel's mind was hard at work, cataloguing sensations, memorizing the feel of his Guide against him. Blair's body was pressed to Jim's full length, his weight a welcome heaviness. 

Blair's head lay just below Jim's chin and he could smell the younger man's shampoo and natural odor--made fresh by the wet of the rain. He could feel Blair's respiration--as his chest was laying flush against Jim's lower chest and upper abdomen. Jim found that if he concentrated, he could even distinguish the small brown nipples and the fur that decorated them. The button at the top of Blair's jeans pushed painfully into Jim's lower belly, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the warmth pressing against his groin--the warmth of the younger man's sex touching his own. Jim closed his eyes, afraid he might zone, so powerful were the sensations. But at that moment, Blair rolled off him and Jim nearly wailed at the loss. 

"Jim? Jim, you okay, man? You're not zoning on me, are ya?" While trying to regulate his breathing, the bigger man slowly opened his eyes to find Blair kneeling beside him, head tilted, regarding him with wide, worried eyes. 

"No" he croaked, cleared his throat and tried again, "No. Just got the wind knocked out of me, is all." Jim tried for a reassuring smile, which fell short of appearing genuine by several light years. But Blair nodded thoughtfully, his curious eyes leaving his partner's only to travel down the planes of Jim's chest. 

"I got you wet." 

"Wet?" Jim looked down at himself and found the rainwater imprint of Blair's body on his sweatshirt and jeans. Looking up, he finally noticed that Blair was shivering. Blessed Protector instincts kicked in at the sight and the fog permeating the big man's brain lifted instantly, giving him the focus he needed to take charge of the situation. "Blair! You're soaked!" 

"Rain'll do that to you, man." Blair still regarded Jim assessingly, but with some measure of surprised amusement. Jim ignored the gaze, more immediate concerns consuming his thoughts. 

"Get out of those clothes before you catch your death, Chief." Quickly, Jim zipped up the tent-flap to block the morning chill. Turning to his pack, the older man rummaged within until he found a warm sweatshirt and a thick pair of wool socks. Turning to toss the aforementioned items to his partner, Jim found himself frozen with his arm drawn back. 

Blair had removed his shirt and he now lay on his back atop his sleeping bag attempting to wiggle out of his wet jeans. They stubbornly clung to his hips and grunting his annoyance, Blair pushed his hands into the sides of his wet boxers and shoved, finally succeeding in wresting the entire damp mass of clothing down to his ankles. 

Jim had to bite his tongue to keep from gasping. Downy fur swirled about chestnut-colored nipples, tapering as it descended toward Blairs midsection. Jim almost zoned on the pattern of the younger mans chest hair. The tapering curls seemed to point toward Blairs abdomen, as if intentionally directing Jims attention lower. 

Unable _not_ to look, Jim felt his gaze slide across the planes of Blair's hard, flat belly, where the skin still prickled with gooseflesh from the wet chill of the air. The fine hairs stood up in response to the prickling and while Blair's attention was focused upon his struggle with his clothing, the big man dared to allow his gaze to travel yet lower--his sight enhancing automatically, as if it had been designed for this purpose alone. 

Jim had always wondered how he would react to this sight if by some strange twist of fate he should obtain his heart's desire. Now that he was confronted by the reality, however, his most erotic fantasies paled in comparison. 

The younger man's sex was lax, draped casually over one thigh, but this condition did nothing to take away from the sight. Blair was not, as Jim had always imagined, perfectly proportioned. Rather, he was quite large for a man his size. He was not endowed with the stocky thickness Jim had envisioned in his secret dreams, but was instead slender and almost delicate-looking. The rosy head of Blair's sex, made overtly visible by his circumcision, somehow made the slender organ look both gentle and powerful. 

Other senses began reporting in. His Guide's smell was a pounding assault to the Sentinel's olfactory nerves and to his astonishment, Jim found that if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost taste Blair from across the tent. The scent was intoxicating and damn-near impossible not to get lost in. Jim had to shift his focus back to sight to keep from zoning on his Guide's savory smell. Turning his attention back to his partner's sex, Jim found Blair's manhood to be not merely sexy, but strangely graceful as it shifted in response to its owner's movements. Jim marveled that the soft organ could light such a fire within him, for as he savored the sight his heart begin to pound in his chest. 

Blair turned then, digging into his belongings, and Jim was treated to yet another spectacular view. The white globes of his partner's naked flesh seemed to glow and wiggle as he rummaged in his knapsack--the muscles of his gluteus hard and flexing as he leaned further down to get at something in the bottom of his bag. Jim felt his body leaning forward, seeking contact with the vision before him, and he had to forcefully pull himself back. 

Was his roommate doing this on purpose? Was he trying to tease Jim, or simply drive him mad? Jim shook his head violently. No. That couldn't be. Hadn't Blair told him that he had no such feelings for men? What was it he'd said? No fireworks? Yeah, that was it. The earth hadn't moved for Blair as it did when he was with women. Why had Blair stopped sleeping with them, then? Jim wondered, feeling fearful, yet again, when the only answer he could come up with was "illness." 

Jim came back to himself with a lurch as he realized that Blair was looking at him speculatively. He was half-turned toward Jim, a pair of sweatpants hanging from one hand and obscuring the view that had sent the Sentinel deep into his own world of thoughts. Shaking himself inwardly, Jim tossed the articles he held in his partner's general direction and mumbled, "This is warmer than your flannels." 

With that, the big man hunkered down into his make-shift bed, tossing the top of his fluffy sleeping bag over his body casually, as if only to ward off the cold. Clasping his hands firmly behind his head, Jim closed his eyes, giving the perfect appearance of a lazy vacationer intent upon catching a few more "Z's." 

It had been too much. Jim's body still tingled where Blair's had touched his, and seeing his partner moving about the tent so unabashedly naked had produced the expected result. Jim was half-hard, but hoped that he'd covered up before Blair had noticed. Daylight was rapidly chasing away the shadows of night, but the overcast sky still held the tent in some gloom. With any luck at all, Blair hadn't noticed his state of arousal. 

Jim tried to relax his body as Blair begin to move once again. But though he'd managed to make his eyelids droop with convincing lethargy, Jim's hearing compensated by pinpointing the movements behind him, sabotaging his attempts to restrain and dampen his traitorous libido. He could clearly make out the slide of cotton over smooth skin as his roommate dressed behind him, the soft sounds shooting straight to his cock. He needed a distraction and returning to his plan, Jim decided to cut to the chase. 

"We never did finish our game of Truth or Dare," he remarked observationally and with as much casual indifference as he could muster. As this statement was a rather extreme non-sequitur, Jim wasn't at all surprised to find Blair repeating his words for verification. 

"Truth or Dare?" 

"Yeah. It's your turn." Jim's eyes were still closed, his head still resting lazily upon his clasped hands. 

"He _wants_ to play Truth or Dare?" Blair asked the tent wall. Wisely, the tent stayed out of it. 

"As he can't think of anything better to do, yeah. Why not?" Jim replied, easily shifting into the third-person to answer for the silent tent around them. 

When this didn't bring an immediate response, Jim opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder in hopes of reading his partner's face. Blair was sitting on his sleeping bag in the lotus position, his serene countenance oddly offset by the official insignia on Jim's Cascade PD sweatshirt. He had donned the fluffy blue socks Jim had lobbed at him as well, and his maroon sweatpants clashed with the entire ensemble. He was drying his curls with a small towel and the ringlets had, in the face of the pouring rain, tightened up to hang in clustered swirls about his face. 

He looked altogether adorable. 

Sitting in his cross-legged position had stretched the soft cotton material across Blair's crotch. The outline of his penis stood out clearly to Sentinel vision, and it was only through a tremendous act of will that Jim managed to keep his gaze upon on Blair's face. "So whatta ya say, Chief? You up for Truth or Dare?" 

"Sure," Blair agreed with an amused snort. "I dare you to go make breakfast." 

Jim frowned. "That's a penalty, not a dare. Are we changing the rules?" Despite Blair's obviousness facetiousness, Jim was determined to play out the scene seriously. 

Blair grinned, moving easily into teasing mode. "Yeah, why not? The forest has great dare potential." Pushing a wet lock of hair behind one ear, the smaller man eyed his comparatively dry roommate with a dangerous smirk. 

Ignoring the threat in his partner's wicked grin, Jim continued innocently, "Well, can't be any worse than Hell Week during Basic Training." Blair's smile broadened to near nefarious proportions and, feigning fear, Jim leaned away. "Um...on second thought, maybe we should just forget it." 

"Oh, no, you don't! You suggested it, Soldier Boy. You're not getting out of it now!" Blair bounced slightly where he sat, obviously with visions of evil dares he couldn't wait to try out on Jim. 

The Sentinel smiled inwardly, well aware of his partner's tenaciousness once he'd seized upon an idea. Outwardly, he gazed at Blair with horror. "What have you got on your evil little mind, Sandburg?" the big man asked warily, knowing his reluctance would only fuel his roommate's desire to play the game. 

"Ohnothing _too_ evil, my friend, not to worry," Blair replied in a tone guaranteed to worry Jim greatly. "But we've _gotta_ play with real dares now that we're not stuck in the truck." Blair cocked his head teasingly, "How about this. We can ask questions first, then if we don't want to answer, we can take a dare. But we'll keep the option of answering the original question open. So don't be afraid, Jim. If a dare is too much for you, you can always answer the question." 

Jim sat up in his sleeping bag. "I'm not afraid of _your_ questions, Sandburg, or of your dares." 

Blair snorted, "Famous last words, _Ellison_. Put up or shut up!" 

Jim gave a low growl in the back of his throat, more for show than at his partner's aggressive challenge, and groused, "Why do I get the feeling you're going to have me streaking through the woods before this game is over?" 

Blair's eyebrows shot up. "Hey! I hadn't thought of _that_ one. That's pretty good!" 

Jim gave a low, resigned sigh, but kept up the challenging tone, lest his roommate catch on to his subterfuge and renege on playing the game altogether. "Do your worst, Sandburg. We'll just see which one of us ends up running through the forest naked." 

Blair laughed delightedly and shook his head. "Okay, tough guy, you asked for it." Blair tapped his lower lip with a finger, his eyes shifting back and forth thoughtfully. "Um. All rightwhy?" 

Jim frowned. "Why? Why what?" 

"Why'd you want to play this game?" Blair asked shrewdly and smiled at Jim's look of surprise. "Either something's bothering you and you need to talk about it, or something I said in the truck on the way up here's got you freaked-out and you're using this game as a way to ask me about it. So what's up? What's on your mind?" 

Obviously, the day had yet to come when he could pull one over on his Guide. And now he'd have to tell the truth. Damn. 

Jim wracked his brain, trying to think of a way of leading up to the answer slowly. "II was afraidI thought you might be." Giving up, the big man shook his head and said hesitantly, "Blair, I think I can best answer that by asking my next question. Can we jump ahead?" 

Blair looked at him strangely for a moment, then shrugged, "Sure, man. Go for it." 

"Are you sick, Chief?" 

Blair looked as surprised as he did confused. "Sick? What are you talking about, Jim?" Blair's heartbeat remained steady, the regular beat pulling Jim from a world of fear and anxiety. Glorious relief flooded through the Sentinel and he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he flopped back on his sleeping bag. His muscles felt like jelly, limp and slackened in response to the blessed alleviation of his worst fear. 

"Jim? You all right?" Blair leaned forward, concerned. 

"YeahI just thought. When I found out you hadn't been with anyone for so long, I got worried that." He couldn't say it. 

Blair's brows knitted momentarily, then his face cleared. "Oh! You're talking about STDs, like HIV or something?" 

"Wellyeah," Jim agreed with a grateful sigh. It was a damn good thing for both of them, the big man mused, that Guides came equipped with limited mind-reading capabilities. Or perhaps, he continued to joke to himself, Sentinels came equipped with thought-transference abilities. Whatever the case, Jim was sometimes glad Blair could read him so easily. 

Blair leaned back with a half-smile and shook his head reassuringly, "No way, man. 'No glove,'" Blair recited, "'no love.' Naomi taught me _that_ mantra before I knew what sex was." Blair's heartbeat remained strong and steady, reinforcing the truth of the statement. "You should know I'm smarter than to get caught in _that_ trap, Jim." 

Jim gave his friend a slightly self-deprecating grin and responded, "You're right, I should. Must be a Blessed Protector thing," he shrugged. Blair nodded his understanding, looking, somehow, both reproachful and pleased. 

"It's kind of nice, you know. Having someone to worry about me." Blair had obviously decided to lean toward 'pleased,' for he gave Jim his million-dollar smile and queried, "So that's what you wanted to know? That's why you wanted to play this game? To find out if I'd contracted some sexually transmitted disease?" 

Jim looked down, feeling foolish and somewhat guilty for having underestimated his friend's intelligence in matters of intimacy. "Uhyeah. I couldn't figure out how to ask you. I was gonna pose some leading questions and monitor your heart-rate, but you." Jim trailed off with a wave of a hand. 

"Figured out what you were up to before you managed it," Blair finished for him, still smiling. 

"Yeah. Sorry, Chief. I should've been straight with you. I'm just not good with words the way you are. We don't have to play any more." 

Blair shook his head. "That's the reason we _should_ continue. This kind of game is a great conduit for getting in touch with your emotional self," Blair told him, rapidly regressing into 'Professor Mode.' "It's a non-threatening formula for the illustration of feelings. It's the perfect thing for you. I mean, you're not exactly an easy person to get to know. And you not only have trouble opening up when it comes to yourself, but you don't feel free to ask me personal questions--even when you're worried about my health--and I'm your partner!" 

At Jim's reluctant hesitation, Blair waved a warning finger, "Hey, you started this. Now you have to finish it. There's no backing out now." Blair paused to give his friend a quirky grin, "But if it'll make you feel better, I promise not to make you run through the forest naked." 

Jim sat up with a smile and shook his head. "All right, Chief. You win. We'll finish the game. Uhwhose turn is it?" Somehow, he had lost track. But Blair answered decisively. 

"It's mine. We've each asked six questions, which leaves fourteen more. You answered my question--even though you did it by using your sixth turn--about why you wanted to play this game. Now I get a question." 

Jim just nodded, trusting his partner to keep track. Blair had a mind like a steel-trap. 

Blair nibbled on his bottom lip, absently brushing a strand of hair from his eyes as he considered. "Souhwhat would you have done if I'd answered 'Yes'? I mean, like, if I really _was_ sick?" 

That was a ridiculous question and Jim decided to say so. "Stupid question, Chief. What do you think I'd do? Kick your sick butt out on the street so you could die alone and friendless?" 

"So you'd take care of me?" 

"Of course, I'd take care of you! You're my partner, for God's sake!" Jim was getting angry. Did Blair really think he was some kind of back-stabbing, fair-weather friend who'd desert him when the going got tough? "You're starting to piss me off, here, Chief. Do you seriously think I'd drop you like a hot potato just when you needed me most?" 

"That's not what I meant! It's justwell, with all your talk about STDs, I just got to thinking. I knew what you'd say, I guess I just needed to hear it, you know?" 

Jim relaxed, but his partner's question bothered him greatly. If Blair was as careful as he'd said he was, why did he waste time worrying about such things? Aloud, he responded, "That's okay, Chief. I understand." 

Blair gave him a tight smile and bit a lip briefly. "It's your turn, then. I know there must be things you'd like to know, but ordinarily wouldn't ask. Now's your chance. You can ask me anything. So go for it, man." 

Even though it was his turn, Jim still felt, oddly enough, that any question he posed would leave him somehowexposed. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Jim hesitated, regarding the tent-flap critically to keep his eyes from communicating his embarrassment to his partner. "WellI was thinking about what you said in the truck. About dating a guy, I mean." 

Blair became suddenly still. "You okay with that?" 

Jim glanced at Blair, reassured, for some reason, by his friend's nervous query. "Sure, Chief. You were young. You were experimenting." 

Blair frowned. "So you've made allowances to excuse my foolish behavior?" 

Urp. Only two minutes into the game and Jim had already managed to wander into the middle of a mine-field without noticing it. "That didn't come out right, Chief. You can do whatever you want. It's your life. It's not my place to judge." 

Blair tilted his head, still frowning. "It's been my experience that people who say it's not their place to judge, always do. I think a lot of people pretend things don't bother them because they know they _shouldn't_ be bothered. They know what's right, but their feelings say something different," Blair finished somewhat haughtily. Jim had the distinct impression Blair was talking about him. 

"You shouldn't be so hard on people, Chief. At least they're trying. They're not out committing hate crimes, for God's sake." Jim frowned to himself, struggling to pull his thoughts together. "What I mean is, a lot of people _know_ what's right, they try to _do_ what's right and they teach their children what they logically _understand_ is right. That's a pretty big step for some of people." Jim heard his tone turn cold, but he couldn't stop his next words. "Who's judging now? To judge others by their feelings, especially feelings they don't like or want and are trying to overcome, is pretty unfair if you ask me. It's a tough battle, sometimes, doing what's right in this world." Why was he getting so defensive? Wasn't this a hypothetical conversation? 

Blair looked chastised. "Yeah. You're right. Sorry, man. I guess I was afraid you would." 

"Judge you because you dated a guy?" 

Blair colored slightly, then shrugged, "Yeah. It was kind of a confusing time for me." 

Treading carefully, the big man hazarded, "There would have been a lot of difficulties if you'd discovered that you were." Jim trailed off uneasily. 

"Gay," Blair finished for him, "or bisexual." 

Jim nodded his agreement. 

"Jim, I'm an anthropologist. I've studied all aspects of our society and dozens more. I know all about the way groups and subgroups judge others--measuring by their own tribal standards and prejudices; justifying their beliefs and actions by clinging to old taboos. You don't have to tell me about how some people might react if I dated a guy. I've forgotten more about such things than you'll ever know." Blair paused to look at Jim pointedly and his silence weighed heavily in the tight confines of the tent. "How does this relate to your question? Exactly what did you want to know about my dating that guy, Jim?" Blair had kept his voice light throughout this oratory, but the intensity of his gaze was unnerving. 

Swallowing noisily, Jim muttered, "I guessjust how you felt about it. Ifif it would have been worth it to you. You know, to pursue a relationship with that guy if you'd found out that you were," Jim paused to wave a hand, "so inclined. If you would have been willing to face all the difficulties that go along with that lifestyleespecially if you had a choice. I mean, assuming you still liked women and all." 

Blair nodded thoughtfully, considering. "It's not a matter of the lifestyle, it's the _person_. If I'd discovered I had those kinds of feelings for him--and if he'd been special enough to make it worth a little harassment from the outside--then, yeah. I'm sure I would have risked anything for him. It might have been easier to date only women, but since when is taking the easy way out the right choice? Almost never, in my experience. And definitely not where true love is concerned. That kind of thing is pretty rare in this world and far too precious to throw away over a little outside heat. Think Romeo and Juliet. All the odds were against them. And even though their lives ended tragically, for them it was worth it. They got to experience the kind of love that only comes along once in a lifetime. True love, man. That's what makes life worthwhile." 

Jim couldn't help but smile. Blair had an optimistic view of the world, of that there was no doubt. But he also opened doors for Jim no one else ever could. When the man spoke, Jim found he was able, if only for a moment, to look at the universe through Blair's eyes. He cherished these respites from the harshness of his own world-view. He loved looking at the world through "Blair-colored" glasses and reveled in these glimpses of life as Blair saw it. 

"Jimis it my turn, yet?" 

Blair was looking at him quizzically and Jim realized, suddenly, that he'd been smiling at Blair stupidly for the past few seconds. Quickly shaking off some foolishly romantic visions of battles fought and won for unlikely love, the Sentinel dragged himself back to the present. Clearing his throat gruffly, Jim responded, "Yeah, Chief. Go for it." 

"Okay. Um." Blair tilted his head and regarded Jim with a sidelong glance as he asked, "If I wanted to date a guy now, would you freak?" 

The warm contentment of the moment before drained from the tent like someone had pulled a plug. A chill seemed to sweep through the thin nylon walls around them and it was all Jim could do not to shiver visibly. Blair wanted to date a guy? Who? The heat of unexpected jealously replaced the chill and Jim tried to keep from clenching his jaw. "But I thought you saidin the truck you said. Why do you want to date a guy?" 

"I didn't say I wanted to. It's just a theoretical question. What would you do if I did?" 

Just a theoretical question. Fine. Good. "I wouldn't do anything. What could I do?" The game wasn't simply _not_ going the way Jim had planned, it was also stirring up painful feelings in him when all he'd been trying to do was help! The irony of the situation left him feeling vaguely irritated. "You're a grown man, Sandburg. You make your own decisions." Jim's irritation was suddenly covered by a wave of defensiveness and he snapped, "Why are you asking me this? Do you think I'm homophobic, or just a bigot?" 

Jim's teeth _were_ clenched now. He couldn't help it. He could feel the muscle in his jaw jump and knew his roommate could see it. This was something he'd never been able to control. And as always, it gave him away to the one person who understood what that twitching meant in any context. 

"No, Jim! I'm not trying to imply anything! Stop reading into everything I say. I only wanted to know." 

Jim cut him off, "You wanted to know if I'm such a bigot I'd kick you out of your home for the crime of having feelings for a man? Well, I wouldn't. I'm not saying I would be entirely comfortable with itbut that's my problem, not yours. It's your life." 

"But you wouldn't like it," Blair stated emphatically and tilted his head as he watched Jim carefully. 

"So? You need my approval?" Jim snapped, more sharply than he'd meant to. 

Blair thought about this for a moment. "Yeah. Maybe I do." 

This answer was so unexpected it knocked the wind from Jim's sails and his anger tapered off, leaving him floating on a sea of uncertainty. Blair needed his approval? His opinion was that important to Blair? Before he could speak, the younger man continued, "Our friendship's too important to risk ruining it over something like that. You're my best friend, Jim." 

All the anger and indignant defensiveness evaporated at these words and Jim was left feeling only vague pride and confusion. Unable to find the proper words to express his churning feelings, he could only nod slowly and attempt to tell his partner, with his eyes, what it meant to him to have a friend who placed so much value on his opinion. 

A small smile played at the corners of his Guide's mouth and the big man relaxed. Blair always understood. The tension in the tent had evaporated, but Jim was still left feeling confused and weakened. Why did everything with his Guide have to be so difficult? 

"So," Blair tilted his head slightly and asked softly, "what _would_ you do?" 

The conversation had gone so far astray of the original question, Jim needed verification that they were talking about the same thing. "You mean, if you started seeing guys?" 

"Yeah. Or said I wanted to." 

"Do you want to?" 

"It's not your turn, Jim." 

The big man sighed. "If my approval was that important to you, I guess I would have to give it. You're _my_ best friend, too. My Guide. I'dwant you to be happy," Jim finished uneasily. He'd said this only because he knew it was the right thing to say, but the moment the words were spoken, he knew them to be true. He looked down so Blair wouldn't see the sadness in his eyes. "You already know how some segments of society might react. If you chose to take that chanceI'd just tell you to be careful." 

"Careful?" Blair asked, he seemed touched by the sentiments expressed. 

"Yeah. You know," Jim waved a hand, as if the gesture alone could convey his thoughts. 

"You mean, like, condoms and stuff. What you were talking about before. Protection against STDs." 

There it was again. The evidence of Blair's ability to read him. "Yeah," the big man confirmed, feeling awkward, but still greatly touched by the import Blair placed upon his views. 

"Like I said, man, I'm smarter than that." 

Jim nodded, acknowledging the truth of this statement. "It's my turn now, right?" the Sentinel asked uncomfortably. Blair was watching him carefully. 

"Yeah." 

"Have youthought about it?" 

"About STDs?" asked Blair, " 'Course. Gotta think about that stuff these days." 

"No. About the 'guy-thing.' I meanhave you thought about what it would be like to date a guy? To" Jim floundered briefly, then just came out with it, "be _with_ a guy? You know, _that_ way." 

"Yeah." 

"Yeah?" Jim was surprised. "You've thought about that?" 

"I think about a lot of things, man," Blair shrugged, clearly trying to downplay his response. "The old noodle never sleeps, ya know?" Blair tapped his temple lightly, as if his head were a visual-aid to the discussion. Suddenly amused, Jim found himself smiling at the gesture. He never used to smile like this BB. 'Before Blair' nothing could call a smile to his face so quickly. Now the easy smile and quick grin came naturally. At least where Blair was concerned. 

"Okay, Sport, your turn again. Fire away." 

"Um," Blair bit his lip and tilted his head before asking carefully, "What kind of guy would you approve of me dating?" 

Jim felt the bottom drop from his stomach. So it wasn't just a theoretical issue! "I've already answered that question. I told you I'll give you my blessingyou knowwith anyone that makes you happy." 

"That's not what I'm asking, here, man. I want to know what kind of guy you wouldn't have reservations about me getting involved with. If you could pick out his main qualities, what would he be like?" 

As if it weren't bad enough that Blair wanted to date another man, he wanted Jim to pick one out for him, too? The very notion of Blair with a man other than himself made Jim almost physically ill. But Blair was waiting patiently for a response, so Jim clamped down on his feelings and dutifully summoned up an ideal mate for Blair: A man as young and irrepressible as his Guide was; an open, carefree kind of guy who was intelligent, trustworthy and deserving. Someone better than an old, repressed cop who ran from his feelings like his life depended on it. 

Battling down a wave of nausea at the thought, Jim managed to stammer, "I guessI guess, if you _had_ to date a guy, I'd want him to be someone you could trust. You know, someone who'd stick with you through thick and thin. Someone who could be counted on to take care of you if you were sick or hurt. Someone who would look out for you. Not take advantage of you. Someone who wouldwellput your happiness first. You know," Jim waved a hand and gave his friend a sad smile, "someone perfect." 

Blair nodded thoughtfully, a small smile gracing his lips, and asked, "Would he be handsome?" 

Jim snorted, pushing away the hurt, "Sure. Why not? Since this mythical person can practically walk on water, what the hell? He can look like a statue of Apollo, if that's what you want." 

The small smile remained, but was joined by an amused twitch. "Wow. I'm a pretty lucky guy." 

Jim grunted, hurt and confused by the subject. "Is it my turn yet?" 

"Yeah, sure. Shoot." 

"Are you serious?" 

The smile faded slowly and Blair stared at Jim for a long moment. "Yeah. I think I might be." Jim was suddenly very glad they hadn't eaten breakfast. He wasn't altogether certain he would have been able to keep it down. "But I'll wait until I find a guy you really approve of," Blair added magnanimously. 

Yeah, Jim snorted to himself, well that's gonna be one _long_ wait. Aloud, he remarked, "I told you already, Sandburg, I'll approve of anyone who makes you happy." Unless I kill him, Jim mused maliciously, chop him into little pieces and mail him all over the continent. Approval or murder? It was a toss-up. "Your turn, Chief. You let me ask you questions about your sexual history, so fire away. Was there anything you wanted to ask about mine, but never did?" 

Blair nodded thoughtfully and Jim wished, for the hundredth time in their partnership, that he had a direct line into this partner's thoughts, as Blair often seemed to have into his. The Sentinel took a moment to study his Guide's face, but couldn't glean anything conclusive from the younger man's expression. Even so, Jim again felt that there was something couched in Blair's strange questions--something important he was missing. 

"Wellyeah, now that you mention it," Blair answered hesitantly. Obviously, there _was_ a question about his romantic encounters Blair wanted to ask--and judging from the nervous way Blair was twisting the toe of his sock, it was bound to be a doozy. "So" Blair began casually, a sure sign his question would be anything but, "umwhat's it like for you?" 

Jim had lifted his arms to stretch out his back, trying to ease the bothersome kink in his neck, but at the odd question, he paused mid-stretch. "What's it like?" he repeated in confusion. 

"Yeah," Blair affirmed somewhat shyly. "You know, being with someone." 

Suddenly, Jim understood. "You mean because of my Sentinel senses," he stated thoughtfully. 

"Yeah." 

Jim resumed his stretch before laying back on his sleeping bag and rubbing at his neck idly. Finally--a question he was comfortable with. "Blair, how long have you wanted to ask me that?" 

[Concluded in part two](truthor_a.html).


	2. Chapter 2

Due to length, this story has been split into two parts.

## Truth or Dare

By Rainy Day

Author's homepage: <http://members.aol.com/rainy1666/page/index.htm>

Disclaimer and notes can be found in part one. 

* * *

Truth or Dare - part two  
By Rainy Day 

  

Blair shook out his curls and made a production of folding the wet towel that was lying beside him. "Since the beginning," he told his Sentinel softly, then added, "I did try to ask you once, but you." 

"Made a joke out of it," Jim finished for him. 

"Yeah." 

"I remember. But you never asked me again. Not even when we were having a serious discussion about women. Why not?" 

"Because people have boundaries. Especially friends. I didn't know you real well back then, but now we're best friends. And there's an unspoken agreement that goes along with friendship. An invisible line that you know you can't cross without jeopardizing the relationship. I didn't want to cross that line." 

Jim acknowledged the truth of this with a nod. "Sohave we crossed the boundary line?" 

Blair picked at the faded CPD insignia on his sweatshirt. "Maybe. Or maybe it's one of those rare circumstances when it's appropriate." The smaller man stopped abusing Jim's outerwear long enough to glance over at his partner. Obviously, he was allowing Jim to make the call. 

Uncertain what the implications of such a decision really were, Jim decided to push the question aside for the moment and return to the issue at hand. "I take it you're thinking it must be incredible for a Sentinel to be intimate with someone." Jim glanced up at the dome above them momentarily. He could hear the differing sounds the droplets made when they hit the tent, the trees, the ground outside. It was soothing. "You're thinking I can focus my senses to heighten the experience, right? That I can feel things you never will?" 

"The possibility has crossed my mind," Blair prompted carefully. 

The thought was hardly unfamiliar. Jim had spent a considerable amount of time pondering this very question when senses had first come on-line. But his fear of zoning-out while with a woman had kept him from the arms of another for some time. It had been only with great trepidation that he had finally risked intimate contact. It had been quite a relief to discover he could be with a woman without losing touch with reality. But Jim had the impression that Blair believed that sex for a Sentinel was so earth-shaking that it was simply too intense to be engaged in with frequency--and that was patently ridiculous. 

"First, let me set the record straight. The fact that I don't date a lot of women has nothing to do with my senses--or it hasn't in a long time." 

Blair nodded. "Okay. So you're selective. That's good. But what about zone-outs? Is it something you have to worry about?" 

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "that's always a concern. I have to be careful." 

"Careful, yeah. But I figure, with your ability to control the level of your tactile responses, it must be pretty wild, even considering the risks. I wish I could do that!" 

The big man shook his head. Blair was, just as Jim had suspected, functioning under serious misconception in this regard. With a world-weary sigh, the Sentinel said simply, "Blair, don't envy me. It's not something I'd wish on anybody." 

"Whatta ya mean, Jim?" 

"I meanI have to keep very tight control. I can't lose myself the way I used to. Iwhen you have senses like mine, you have to keep everything dialed down pretty far," Jim found it easier to discuss this in the third-person. Blair didn't object to the distancing, so Jim continued, "Sometimes it's hard for a man to stay that focused. It can be really exhausting. Takes a lot of the fun out of it." 

"Soit's not good for you?" The kid actually sounded disappointed for him! 

"I didn't say that," Jim hastened to explain. "You know what they say: 'Even when it's bad, it's good.' It's just not as good as it was before," he finished sadly. 

"Butwhat if you didn't have to worry about zoning-out? I mean, just imagine what it would be like if you could let yourself go! You know, with someone who understood." 

Jim snorted, "Never found anyone like that. She'd have to be a pretty special woman." 

Blair fidgeted, then said thoughtfully, "Yeah, guess she would. Your turn." 

Jim pondered a moment, then decided just to come out with it. "Was there another reason you were asking that question? A reason you're 'pushing the boundaries of friendship' and all that? I mean, I keep getting this feeling you're trying to figure something out. Like there's something more to your questions. What is it, Chief?" 

Jim had kept his tone light, his words non-threatening, but Blair's face closed up with all the speed of a black-and-white in hot pursuit of a fleeing felon. So there _was_ something beneath the words. It hadn't been his imagination, after all. But what? What was this all about? 

"Dare." A flat, unemotional word, wholly devoid of inflection. 

Jim raised his head and tilted it slightly. "Excuse me?" Perhaps he could draw his roommate out with confusion. 

"You heard me," Blair declared in the same monotone, "I'll take a dare." 

Well, confusion obviously wasn't going to work. He'd actually have to dare the man. Damn. "Oh, uh." 

Having little experience with this game, Jim had no idea what to assign as a dare. The only thing that came to mind was an image of Blair running through the forest naked, like a sprite, dancing over moss and fallen pine boughs. Jim shifted slightly, his jeans feeling tight, and banished the thought. _That_ dare was unfair not only because his Guide would catch his death out it the rain, but because Blair had already promised _not_ to use it on him. Besides, he thought humorlessly, it would be a dead giveaway. Might as well just _tell_ the man how much you enjoy looking at him naked, Ellison. It would have the same effect. Blair would bolt. Probably wouldn't even pause long enough to pack his things--he'd just grab the first express to Katmandu. 

No. Blair wasn't like that. More than likely, it would simply begin with them having to _talk_ about the embarrassing issue and end with his Guide's gentle rebuff and pitying expression. And that he couldn't endure. Still, Blair _had_ admitted he'd become interested in trying out a relationship with a man. But Jim knew there was no way someone as beautiful as Blair would settle for an old, repressed cop; for a man unable to share his feelings without hiding behind some stupid game. Blair would want someone more like himself. Someone who was his intellectual equal and able to share his interests. Someone with no fear of intimacy. 

Someone worthy of his love. 

But wouldn't it wonderful if it could be so! If only he could talk his Guide into considering _him_ as a candidate. But Blair was his best friend. His Guide. Jim wouldn't risk losing that--not without some sign that Blair would respond positively to such an offer. Perhaps there _was_ something he could dare after all--something that involved intimate contact, but was non-threatening enough that he could use the experience to test the waters. 

Stretching out his arms once again, Jim winced, then groaned dramatically while rubbing at his neck. 

"Neck still bothering you, Jim?" Blair asked with concern. 

"Yeah. Guess I'm too big to be stuck in a tent this size. Hard on the old sacroiliac, ya know?" 

"Yeah. I wish it would stop raining. I'm getting claustrophobic." 

"I wouldn't mind so much if I could just stand up in here," Jim raised his head to look mournfully at the tent dome two feet above them. "Hey!" As if he had just thought of it, the Sentinel looked pointedly at his partner and asked, "How about getting this kink out of my neck? I can't think of any real dares, but my neck is sure sore. Would that work as a dare?" 

"Hey, why not? It's better than streaking in the rain!" 

For a moment, Jim feared his Guide actually _had_ read his thoughts. But recalling Blair's earlier teasing, Jim relaxed, secretly delighted that his partner had agreed to the massage. He could easily monitor Blair's heart-rate and respiration, so if Blair was aroused at all by the contact, Jim would know about it. Unfortunately, Blair didn't ask him to remove his shirt or to lay down. He simply scooted over to Jim's sleeping bag and sat cross-legged behind him. Still, Jim's heart leapt as he felt Blair's hands on his shoulders, massaging his neck, which was, truthfully, still a bit sore. 

Jim was a little disappointed, as he'd hoped to feel Blair's hands on his bare flesh, but he was able to adjust his sense of touch to compensate. It felt great, really. Jim almost didn't mind that he hadn't been asked to lay on his belly. Had Blair sat upon his back, Jim would have been sure to feel Blair's hardness had he gotten even the slightest bit aroused. Still, this was nice. Blair had remarkably strong hands and his massage was rough, just the way Jim liked it, and he worked at the sore muscle with vigor. 

Jim adjusted his sense of touch once again, dialing up until he could actually feel Blair's fingerprints on his neck. It was a moment before Jim realized that his plan was backfiring miserably. Instead of Blair becoming aroused, Jim was the one getting an erection. Figures, he thought ruefully, as he dampened his tactile responses to combat his physical reaction to the pleasurable massage. 

"So I guess it's my turn," Blair commented conversationally. 

"Hum?" Jim had been so engrossed in the feel of his Guide's hands on his neck and shoulders, he'd almost zoned. 

"My turn, man," Blair repeated. 

"Oh. Sure. Go for it, Chief." 

"Um. Do you think love crosses all boundaries?" 

Jim tilted his head to give Blair better access to the sore side of his neck. "Crosses all boundaries?" 

"Yeah. Like, what if you fell for a woman and, like, she finally tells you that, say, she used to be a man. Would you dump her?" 

"Used to be a _man_?" Jim wasn't sure he'd heard right. 

Blair, however, confirmed decisively, "Yeah. It's a pretty common operation these days, you know." 

Turning his head to glance at his partner over his shoulder, Jim cocked an amused eyebrow. "Let me get this straight, Chief. You want to know what I would do if I fell in love with a woman, and then found out she was really a guy who'd had a sex-change operation. Is that what you're asking?" 

Blair looked slightly embarrassed, but he remained resolved enough to respond, "Wellyeah. What would you do?" 

A smile quirking the corners of his lips, Jim turned his head forward so Blair could continue with his massage. "Did I miss something? Was _The Crying Game_ on this week?" 

"No one had an operation in that movie. And we're getting sidetracked. Just pretend you fell for the woman in question." 

"So of all the billions of women in the world, I not only date, but fall for one of the .001 percent of women that used to be guys." Jim waited for confirmation of the statistical improbability of the question, but Blair stuck to his guns. 

"It could happen." 

"Anything could happen, Chief, but some things are a lot more likely than others." 

"Hey, it may be improbable," Blair admitted as he rubbed at Jim's shoulders, "but its definitely happened to _someone_ out there. Let's say it just happened to be you. What would you do? Would you make the adjustment? Or would you kick her caboose up and down the sidewalk?" 

Jim frowned. "I don't kick women up and down sidewalkswhether they were born women or became women last week." 

"You're stalling, man. Answer the question." 

Jim sighed, shook his head inwardly and tried to give serious consideration to the ridiculous issue. "WellI'd probably be pissed that he--she--whatever--lied to me. Not telling the whole truth is something that'll ruin a relationship faster than you can say 'lie of omission.' That's the kind of thing that he--she--has a moral obligation to explain _before_ he or she gets seriously involved with another person." 

"Moral obligation?" Blair repeated the words questioningly, his hands pausing in their work. But refusing to be sidetracked, Blair returned them to the issue at hand, "You're saying you would only be pissed-off by the lie? You wouldn't be freaked by the revelation?" 

"I didn't say I wouldn't be freaked. I probably would be. But I'd also be pissed-off. And, yes, there is a moral obligation for honesty between people who are looking for more than friendship. Trust me on this. I was married. I know all about the kind of damage that can be caused by not being _completely_ honest about who you are." 

"Okay," said Blair, seeming to accept this at face value, "Then let's say she didn't lie by omission. Let's say it was love at first sight and she tells you right away. So you're already in love with her _and_ she meets her moral obligation. What do you do?" 

"This scenario is getting more and more improbable by the minute, Sandburg." 

"It may not be all that plausible, but it's still a valid question. Some people wouldn't be able to get past it. Other people believe that love conquers all. For them, even when people are born the wrong gender, they can adjust and true love wins out." 

"And you're trying to find out if I'm one of the former--one of the shallow people who would reject what might be his only chance at happiness because of gender bias?" 

"Well, I wouldn't have put it exactly like thatbut yeah. Would you?" 

Jim felt mildly insulted. He _wasn't_ a bigot, but Blair was putting him to the test by making it personal. Perhaps Jim didn't have the kind of background that would make his reaction in such a situation overtly apparent, but he was _not_ his father's son. Blair knew at least _that_ much about him. 

"Sandburg, even if I believed in love at first sight, I couldn't tell you how I would react in an imaginary relationship. So the answer is, 'I don't know.' I can't say gender wouldn't matter, because it would. But would it matter enough to drive me away?" Jim paused to frown at the dome above them. He was on really shaky ground here. It was almost impossible for Jim to imagine himself being in love with anyone but Blair. "I'd like to think I'd be open-minded enough to get past it. But the truth is, it would depend on the person." Blair's hands stilled on his shoulders, so Jim turned his head to meet his partner's bright, appraising eyes. Blair was listening intently. "But I can tell you that by my way of thinking, if either of us could walk away over the gender issue, then it never really _was_ true love to begin with." 

Happy to have managed to answer the question without giving himself away, Jim allowed himself a mental sigh of relief. Not bad for a man who wasn't good with words, he congratulated himself, relaxing now that he was clear of the spotlight. "Where do you get this stuff, Chief? Do you stay up nights imagining weird-ass scenarios?" 

"Just trying to understand the 'Ellison Psyche,'" Blair chortled. Despite his partner's mirth, Jim was certain there was more to it than that. And as far as the 'Ellison Psyche' went, his Guide didn't have a hope in hell of understanding it. Shit--Jim couldn't even claim to understand it himself. 

Blair had finished with his massage and Jim rolled his shoulders with genuine relief as he turned to face his friend. "Thanks, Sandburg. That's a lot better." 

Blair nodded absently, seemingly lost in thought. 

Jim was grateful for the massage, but it was still high-time to take the focus off himself and put it back where he wanted it--on Blair's uncharacteristic sexual abstinence. So clearing his throat to get his Guide's attention, Jim plastered on what he hoped resembled an easy-going smile and asked lightly, "So where are you when you spend nights away from home, Chief?" 

Blair looked up with a start, swallowed, than cast his gaze down past his folded knees. He seemed to find the broken zipper on Jim's sleeping bag to be of immense interest. "Uh. Usually at the U. You know, in my office catching up on grading and other work stuff." 

Blair's heart fluttered slightly before resuming its natural rhythm. Jim frowned. Blair glanced up, saw the look and sighed, "Okay, I've been at my office working on my dissertation. Sometimes I catch a couple of hours' sleep before I shower at the gym in the morning." 

Jim continued to frown. "After a date you go to your office to work instead of coming home?" 

Blair shrugged, "Yeah. Sometimes." He still didn't look at Jim. 

"And when you have to teach the next day you come _back_ from the university and put in an appearance at the loft, only to _return_ to school after you eat and change your clothes?" 

Blair grunted noncommittally, then shrugged and nodded. 

"Blair, why?" 

"How else am I gonna keep up my reputation as a ladies' man?" Blair quipped, smiling at Jim with an attempt at masculine camaraderie. Jim didn't return the smile. Blair sighed and looked away. "That's another question. You only get one per round, remember?" 

Jim nodded and watched his partner appraisingly. It was a useless evasion, as Jim would simply ask the question again during his next turn. But if his Guide needed a delay to get his thoughts together, Jim would give it to him gladly. "Fair enough. Guess it's your turn, then." 

Blair nodded, biting his lower lip as he silently considered. 

Though his outward appearance was calm, Jim fretted inwardly. He couldn't believe his partner would go to such lengths to deceive him--to maintain an illusion. There was a lot more to this than just a desire to maintain a _manly_ reputation. 

Blair had never been coarse or disrespectful where the honor or reputation of his women friends was concerned--a trait that Jim respected--and when Jim inquired about how his young partner's date had gone on a 'morning after,' Blair would rarely do more than smile or wink suggestively, or declare "Great, man!" with a comical leer that always made Jim laugh and shake his head. Quite a performance, now that he thought about it. Jeez. Something was really wrong here. 

"So, do you think you'll ever get married again?" 

Jim looked up; Blair's question calling him from his pondering. "Oh. Uhmaybe. You know, if it was really right with someone. I'd have to find a person I could really commit to. And I'd probably want to have a long relationship first. No way would I make the same mistake I did with Carolyn." 

"Mistake?" 

"Yeah," Jim breathed. "I think love's not enough, though I know that sounds awful. You need to be friends with a person, too. Carolyn and I didn't become friends until after the marriage was over," Jim finished sadly. Perhaps if they'd done it the other way around? But there was no sense crying over spilled milk. What was done, was done. 

"Yeah," Blair agreed. "I think being friends first is the way to go, too. That and living together. It's the only real way to see if two people are compatible. If you've lived with someone, seen all their faults, seen them at their worst, and still love them, then you know it's gonna work." 

Something clicked for Jim, then--the 'something' he hadn't been getting before. Jim had said it himself: Blair needed someone he could trust. Someone who would take care of him. Someone he could depend on. Someoneperfect? Was that what Blair's questions were about? Was he trying to say he thought Jim was perfect for him? Jim ran over his partner's questions in his mind: 

What would you do if I got sick? How do you feel about gender-related problems in relationships? Wouldn't you want someone you could let yourself go with while intimate--someone who would understand? 'I'll wait until I find a guy you really approve of,' Blair had said. 

Someone _you_ approve of! 

Shit. It was him. 

Jim was so lost in his thoughts he didn't know he'd zoned until he felt Blair shaking him. 

"Come on, Jim. Come on back to me. You can do it. Just listen to my voice. Let it lead you. Follow it back." 

"Blair?" Jim croaked. 

Relief flooded his partner's features. "Jim, I was so worried! You were really out there, you know? I thought I'd _never_ get you back! What did you zone on?" 

Jim answered before he thought better of it. "My thoughts." 

Blair gaped. "Your THOUGHTS?!! Jim, are you serious? Has this ever happened before? What were you thinking about? Was it spurred by a memory? Did you." 

"Sandburg." 

"Yeah, Jim?" Blair leaned forward, concern openly broadcast from his clear, blue eyes. 

"Why?" 

Blair's concerned face scrunched in thought, "'Why?' Why _what_ , man?" 

"It's my turn, right? So, why have you been working nights on your dissertation?" 

"Your _turn_?" Blair asked incredulously. "Jim, you just zoned big time and you're asking if it's your turn? Forget the game! We need to talk about what just happened." 

"I am talking about that. It's all tied together. Just answer the question and I'll talk about anything you want." 

Blair's mouth worked silently for a moment. "II had to finish it." 

Jim looked at him in surprise. "You mean it's done?" 

"Wellyeah. It still needs some editing and it hasn't been approved yet, but yeah. It's done." Blair seemed frightened by this admission. His pulse was doing the 'two-step.' 

"But that doesn't really answer my question. Why, Blair? Why did you spend nights at the university working on it? And don't tell me it's just because you wanted to finish it. Be honest with me. It's important." 

"I'lluhtake a dare." 

Jim shook his head. "Forget the game. This is _me_ asking. As your friend. Tell me the truth, Blair. I think I know, but I need to hear you say it. Why did you need to finish it?" Jim held Blair's eyes with his own, not allowing the younger man to look away. 

"Because" Blair stammered, "becausebeing personally involved with my test subject would have invalidated my results." 

"Are we personally involved?" 

"Yes. No. I don't know." Blair ripped his eyes away from his partner's. "I thought we might be moving in that direction." He laughed humorlessly for a moment. "Stupid, huh?" 

Jim put his hand beneath Blair's chin and tilted his head back up, forcing the younger man to meet his eyes. "Not stupid. I just needed to make sure. It _was_ me you were talking about before, wasn't it? The guy you wanted to date?" 

Blair's eyes were saucers and he nodded only slightly, so as not to dislodge the hand beneath his chin. "Mr. Perfect," he agreed in a hushed whisper, his eyes large and unblinking. 

Jim snorted, "I wouldn't go quite _that_ far." 

"How far _would_ you go?" Blair asked in his wide-eyed whisper. 

There was no sexual suggestiveness in his tone, but the double meaning was clear. Could Jim, Blair was asking, go the distance in a male/male relationship? Could he cope with the changes to his lifestyle and deal with the probable bigotry he would face? Did Jim even return his feelings? It was all right there in his Guide's eyes--each and every question. Damn, Jim thought with an inward shake of his head, I must be getting the hang of this mind-reading thing. 

"About this far," Jim responded, and taking the easy opening his Blair had given him, the Sentinel leaned forward and touched his lips to his Guide's for the first time. And it was sweet. So sweet to kiss those lips, lips he had kissed only in his most secret fantasies; lips that moved against his own even more gently than they did in his dreams. And when Blair parted his lips slightly, Jim accepted the invitation hungrily, entwining his tongue with Blair's. Flavor exploded over Jim's tongue like a nuclear explosion. Gasping, he pulled away, fighting for breath. 

"Jim? What's wrong?" Blair put a hand on Jim's arm to steady him. 

"II'm sorry. It's justI've never tasted you before. For so long I imagined." 

"What did you imagine? You imagined what I tasted like?" 

"Yeah," Jim puffed, still reeling from the power of Blair's natural flavor. 

"But what's wrong, Jim?" Blair asked a little fearfully, "Don't I taste good?" 

"Oh, Blair!" Jim took his partner's hands in his own. "That's not it at all. It's. I've touched you. I've inhaled your scent. I've listened to your heartbeat in the night, watched your muscles move beneath your clothesbut until now I've never tasted you. It was the one thing missing. The one thing that's always been missing from my fantasies. It was just a little too much, having it all." Awed, Jim whispered, "I have every part of you now." 

Blair looked at his friend quietly for a moment, processing this, then he smiled shyly. "You've been having fantasies about me?" 

Jim looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah." 

Blair was silent for several long seconds during which Jim feared he would be asked to recount one of his fantasies. But when his partner spoke, it was to say simply, "Oh. Sowhat do I taste like?" 

Jim was greatly relieved, but still unable to meet his partner's eyes as he answered, "You taste like hot molasses. You taste like the wind before a thunderstorm. You taste like snowflakes when you catch them on your tongue. You taste like _Blair_." 

Again, there was silence. It went on so long Jim risked a look at his partner's face. Blair was smiling at him crookedly. "I didn't know you were a poet, Jim." 

Jim felt his cheeks flush slightly. "It's you," he looked down again, "You inspire me." 

"Wow." 

Jim cleared his throat self-consciously. "Sodid youwere there any?" Jim stammered, feeling uncharacteristically shy. 

"What, Jim? Were there any _what_?" 

"Um. Fireworks?" Jim battled down his modesty and looked directly into his Guide's bright eyes. 

Blair stared back, mouth hanging open, then he laughed delightedly and declared, "Oh, yeah! Big time fireworks, Jim. Roman candles, even!" 

"Really?" This time, Jim didn't look away when Blair smiled at him. 

"Really and truly, Jim," the younger man said seriously, giving Jim's hand a quick squeeze, "Fourth of July, man." 

Jim returned the smile at last. "UhI'm over the initial shock," he assured his partner, "I meanif you want to try that again." 

Blair laughed, "Definitely!" and leaned forward, this time taking Jim's lips with his own. 

It was different this time. Different having Blair kiss _him_. Blair's lips moved more aggressively and, when his tongue entered Jim's mouth, he was nearly overwhelmed by Blair's surety and determination. It was so exciting, letting someone else take the lead. Jim had always controlled his encounters with women--had been unable _not_ to control them. He had always needed power, an upper-hand, to feel comfortable. Even in bed. No, _especially_ in bed. But it was somehow different where his Guide was concerned. With Blair, Jim didn't have to be a husband, or a cop, or Sentinel of the Great City. When they were alone as friends, Jim could just be _Jim_. That knowledge in itself was thrilling for the big man. 

Pulling back from the kiss when the need for oxygen became overwhelming, Jim said softly, "Blair, I've never done anything like this before. I'm not sure exactly how to." Jim waved a hand, dropping his eyes. 

"I am," Blair replied gently, and when Jim looked up to gaze at him quizzically, he explained, "I've done someresearch on the subject." 

"You have?" Jim asked, surprised, and at Blair's nod of confirmation he further inquired, "You mean you knew this was going to happen this weekend?" 

"Uhno. If I had, I certainly would have come prepared." 

Jim frowned, "Prepared?" 

Blair blushed slightly. "Yeah. I don't have the right paraphernalia." 

Paraphernalia? Oh. Condoms. _No glove, no love_ , Blair's earlier words resounded in his head. Fortunately, Jim Ellison had once been a Boy Scout. "Um. I have one, Chief," the Sentinel admitted with only slight embarrassment, "In my wallet." To Jim's surprise, Blair tilted his head in confusion. 

"You have one? One _what_?" Jim saw the light of realization dawn in Blair's eyes a second later. "Oh! You mean a condom!" That's my Blair, Jim thought with an inward shake of his head, always cuts right through the crap and takes the first exit to the facts. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Blair continued. "They test us regularly at the university. It's required, so I've had to take the test even though I've told them that I've never done it without a condom. Have you? Done it without a condom, I mean." 

"Uhyeah. With Carolyn." 

"But not since then?" 

"Not without protection." Blair nodded, seemingly not embarrassed in the least by the discussion. Well, why not? Jim mused. Blair obviously grew up in a generation where all sexual activity was preceded by such discussion. He was used to it. 

"And you've been tested?" 

Jim frowned. "I just told you I always use protection." 

"Those things can break, man." 

Oh. Yeah. That was certainly true. It had happened to Jim twice in his life and it had frightened him both times. It didn't take much to cause such an 'accident.' "I get tested every year during my annual physical. All cops are required to." 

"And the results are always negative?" 

Hadn't he just said that? "Of course! Do you think I'd hide it from you in a situation like this if I'd ever shown up positive? I would never take that kind of risk with you, Blair." 

Blair smiled. "I know that. Still, I had to ask. If I hadn't, Naomi would astral project over here and haunt us in our sleep." 

Jim relaxed. Of course he had to ask. Only a fool wouldn't. Blair was many things, but a fool wasn't one of them. Besides, the image of Naomi haunting him in his sleep was a serious incentive to promote understanding. At least he and Naomi had one thing in common: a genuine desire to protect Blair. At that thought, the Blessed Protector in Jim reared its head and insisted he stop acting indignant and discuss the issue like an adult. 

"I understand, Chief. That thing about condoms breaking--it's happened to me twice. And not with Carolyn. But that was a long time ago and I've always come up negative since." 

Sensing the change in atmosphere toward open discussion, Blair smiled and replied, "Great. But condoms weren't really what I was talking about." 

They weren't? "Then what _are_ we talking about, Chief?" There was a familiar question. Why was _Jim_ always the one left in the dark? 

Blair flushed a bit, "Uhlubrication. I would have brought something, but I wasn't planning on discussing my feelings until after I submitted my diss. But this is close enough," Blair smiled. 

Lubrication. Of course. Jim knew about that. He'd once been a Vice cop, after all, and he'd certainly seen enough of the tubes at the supermarket and drugstore. "Um. Do we have anything we can use?" 

Blair looked thoughtful. "Yeah. I'm sure I can figure something out." 

Of course he could. His Guide was nothing if not a man of inspired ingenuity. "What about condoms? I don't want Naomi showing up at a critical moment," Jim teased, and laughed when Blair looked horrified. 

"WellI was kinda hoping we could, you know, be bare with each other and not have to worry about that. I mean, I had the impression that if we got together you'd probably want to be," Blair waved a hand, "exclusive," he finished uneasily. 

"Exclusive?" Jim leaned forward and took Blair's hand. "I want that and more, Blair. I can't do this unlesspromise me there won't be any others," Jim suddenly hissed urgently. "Promise me." 

Blair looked mesmerized. "I promise, Jim. Because there aren't any others. There's only you." 

Jim looked into Blair's eyes and saw love the depth of which took his breath away. "That's why." 

Blair nodded. "That's why I waited for you. I couldn't." Blair looked down. "The last time I was with a woman itjust felt wrong. Like I was using her. The whole time we were together I was thinking of you. Pretending." 

Jim looked at Blair in surprise. "You pretended you were with me?" 

Blair nodded, shame-faced, and ducked his head. "See, after a while I couldn'tyou know, unless I was thinking of you." 

Whoa. Jim Ellison didn't think anyone had ever paid him such a compliment. 

"That's why I finished my diss so quickly. I was gonna have it ready for submission in a couple of weeks." 

"Blair, I don't want to invalidate your research. We could wait until it's approved." 

Blair looked up in horror. "No! That could take weeks! I can't take it anymore, Jim! I'm going nuts! I'm suffering sexual withdrawal the likes of which no man has ever known!!" His Guide was looking at him with such exaggerated horror at the thought of the sexless weeks ahead that it was all Jim could do not to laugh out loud. "Please, Jim. I've waited so long for this. I want to make love." 

As Jim looked into the cerulean depths of his Guide's shining eyes, Blair's last words rang in his ears, leaving him both dizzy and elated--for he was suddenly certain that this would be exactly that: making love. This wouldn't be sex. Sex would have been easier. It had been a long time since Jim had 'made love.' Not since Carolyn. Even with Lila it hadn't felt like making love. There was just too much painful history between them for Jim to see it that way. But he was about to make love with Blair. The thought astounded him. 

Jim had wanted this for so long, but now that the moment was upon him, he was suddenly terrified. Not of the act itself. No, he'd dreamed of this encounter time and time again. It was Blair's reaction to what he desired that Jim feared. What would Blair think of him when he knew? When he knew what it was Jim imagined when he touched himself alone at night in his bed? Resting his forehead against Blair's, Jim gulped air, trying to calm himself. "Me too," he whispered, trembling slightly, "I want to make love, too." 

"What is it, Jim?" Blair whispered, not attempting to move from the intimate posture. Jim could feel the puffs of air from Blair's words with his lips. "What's wrong?" 

"II'm." Jim broke off, unable to say it. How could he explain? Blair might lose all respect for him when he knew. That thought frightened him nearly out of his wits. He couldn't lose Blair now, not just when he'd finally _found_ him. 

"You're afraid," Blair whispered Sentinel-soft, and Jim nodded against his forehead. "We don't have to do this, Jim. Maybe it's too soon for you." 

"No!" Jim pulled back, looking deeply into his Guide's eyes. "That's not it. I'm not afraid to be with you, I'm just afraid I. I'm afraid we want different things," he finished uneasily. 

Blair tilted his head, concerned, but puzzled. "Why, Jim? What is it you want?" 

Jim shook his head and looked away. Perhaps what he needed had something to do with Blair being his best friend. Perhaps he trusted Blair so implicitly, he didn't fear losing the control he usually relied upon to keep him sane and grounded. But whatever the cause, when Jim imagined the two of them locked in an intimate embrace, it was always Blair who controlled the encounter. 

At first, these fantasies had disturbed and confused him. It bothered him that he found them so incomparably arousing. So incredibly erotic. But in time he'd grown to understand that because he so depended upon his Guide, surrendering to him physically actually made him feel safe. He didn't _need_ to fear surrendering himself, for Blair was the one person who could be counted on not to take advantage of such a gift. 

Shaking off his idle thoughts, Jim looked up to find his Guide regarding him with concern. "Blair, I." 

"It's okay, Jim. You can trust me. Nothing you say will change how I feel." 

Jim sighed, "I know, it'sjust hard to say what I want out loud." 

"Then whisper it," Blair urged in low tones, "Tell me what you want in a whisper." 

"I want" Jim whispered, "I want." Closing his eyes tightly, Jim rested his head upon his partner's soft shoulder in a gesture that was almost child-like. Holding his Guide tightly, the Sentinel shook his head slowly where it lay. His voice was a rusty shadow of its usually strong tones as he said, "BlairI can't." 

Jim cringed at the cowardly admission. He had believed Blair when he'd said he could be trusted with this. He really had. Yet, he still couldn't handle speaking the words. He supposed it had something to do with his past romantic failures. It had taken a long time for Jim to open up emotionally to Carolyn, and longer before he'd been able to openly display affection. After the divorce, Jim had returned to his old ways, closing himself off to avoid being hurt. Revealing his true feelings to no one. 

When he'd first met his partner, Jim had been uncommunicative, stolid and repressed. It had taken time for him to place his trust in Blair--to give him control of his senses; to open up to him. But when he finally had, it had been as if a great weight had been lifted from Jim's shoulders. It had felt so good to allow another to carry the burden for a while. To place himself in Blair's hands and relinquish his near-obsessive control. It was an alluring form of freedom Jim could not admit to desiring. Not even to Blair, who could probably understand the psychology behind such issues far better than Jim ever would. 

As if in response to these very thoughts, Blair whispered, "You need time to be able to say what you feel. To say what you want. What you need." Jim breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his head slightly where it rested on Blair's shoulder. "I can give you that, Jim. You're worth a world of waiting to me. You know that, don't you?" 

Jim tightened his arms around Blair, stifling a sob happiness at his Guide's understanding. "Thank you, Blair." He'd whispered the words so softly he feared Blair had missed them, but when he pulled back it was to find his Guide smiling at him softly, reassuringly, and with as much genuine happiness as Jim had ever seen. 

"Jim, if you want to wait for the physical part, too, that's okay, ya know." 

Jim shook his head, momentarily forgetting his unease, and put a hand on Blair's cheek as he said, "No. I don't want to wait. I just need." Remembering himself, Jim closed his eyes and turned away. 

Before the intimacy between them could be lost, Blair grabbed his partner's hand. "It's okay, Jim. You don't have to say it. Let me do this. Let me lay you down and run the show. This time, at least. You don't need to speak. I'm your Guide. I can figure it out. If you'll trust me, I'll give you everything you need. Will you trust me with yourself?" 

Jim heaved a sigh of relief and, eyes still closed, nodded gratefully. It was _exactly_ what he needed, for Blair to take care of him this way. And Blair was offering this without even understanding that he'd hit the nail directly on the head. Jim didn't know why he should find that surprising. Blair always knew what his Sentinel wanted without being told. Always gave him what he needed without being asked. Opening his eyes, Jim found love and understanding shining from Blair's and suddenly he knew that everything would work out between them. 

"Lay back, lover," Blair whispered Sentinel-soft, "Lay back and let me show you what love is." 

Jim allowed Blair to guide him down to the sleeping bag below them and he stretched out with a quiet sigh. Blair stroked the Sentinel's temples with small strokes of his strong fingers and whispered, "It's okay to want what you want. It's okay to need what you need. And it's okay not to say it. You can be yourself, lover. You can always be yourself. You never have to hide from me." 

Jim smiled. Blair was using his Guide-voice. He was gentle and unhurried, and he continued to repeat variations of these reassuring phrases until Jim felt himself relax. When he did, Blair moved his hands away from his partner's forehead and leaned back with a soft smile. 

"I'm going to undress for you now. It's okay to watch. You want to watch me undress, don't you, Jim?" 

Jim nodded mutely, glad to be freed from the burdens of speech and action, and lay quiescent as he watched Blair slowly pull his sweatshirt over his head. As he struggled to free it from a snag in his hair, Jim let his eyes travel the planes of his Guide's chest, taking in the small chestnut-colored nipples and the fur that decorated them. The same soft-looking sprinkle of fur was revealed beneath Blair's arms as he pulled the shirt free. 

Looking at the light fur under his Guide's arms sent a bolt of desire through Jim. He wanted to bury his nose in that hair, inhale deeply and lick a path from ribcage to upper arm, directly through the smaller man's underarms. But he dared not. Blair would think it was weird. And now that he thought about it, it _was_ weird. Why did he want that? He'd never wanted such a thing before. With Blair to Guide him, Jim learned something new about himself every day. 

As Jim pondered, Blair grasped the toes of his socks and pulled them both off at the same time. Making a show of his next action, the younger man wiggled out of his sweatpants with startlingly slow sensuality. Naked and unashamed, Blair knelt before Jim, letting him look. 

Blair was aroused, his erection emphasizing the delicate slenderness of his sex. Jim was fascinated. He'd seen this earlier, but Blair hadn't been hard then. Now his cock was flushed to a rosy hue, the head a soft, inviting pink. A tiny droplet of precome decorated the top. Jim could smell it. Blair's scent was strong here and the smell of his secret fluids made Jim's own sex throb in response. He wanted to taste it. To sample that hidden flavor. To know Blair on this intimate level. 

Without realizing he was doing it, Jim reached for his Guide's sex. When his own hand entered his visual range, Jim was so surprised to see it he actually gasped. He tried to pull the hand back, but Blair caught it, bringing it to his waist. Jim looked into Blair's eyes and they smiled back. Blair knew him so well. Knew that if he simply wrapped Jim's hand around his cock it might be too much, too soon. He was letting Jim get to know his body by degrees, the same way they began when working with his senses. Jim found a smile gracing his own lips and with a sigh, he turned his attention back to his hand where it rested on Blair's waist. 

Slowly, he ran it down to his lover's hip-bone, marveling at the softness of the skin there. To keep from zoning on the satiny feel of Blair's skin, Jim increased his visual-acuity and marveled anew at what was revealed to him. He looked from his own fingers to Blair's muscled midriff, fascinated by the contrast in flesh-tones. 

Blair's skin was darker than Jim's, but only slightly. With his Sentinel sight, Jim could make out the pale line where Blair's swimsuit had ended, though it had been some time since he'd been to the beach. Tracing the line with a finger, Jim paused just above the younger man's bellybutton and ran a line down to the small indention. An outie. Jim should have known it would be an outie. It suited Blair. It was as adorable as the man himself. 

Moving his hand lower, Jim let just the tip of one finger trace his lover's erection, listening to the small gasp of delight above him. He moved it from base to head, but he paused before touching the tip, overcome by the desire to taste yet again. Embarrassed, Jim tried to withdraw his hand, but Blair must have noticed where his attention had been focused, for he took Jim's index finger and guided it over the tiny pearl of moisture before releasing it. 

When Jim simply lay staring at the finger, Blair tilted his head, then took hold of the finger and brought it to the big man's lips. Jim's gaze rose to meet Blair's as his lips were coated with the satiny seed. The heat in his Guide's eyes felt like a physical fire burning between them. Leaning forward, Blair kissed Jim's lips softly, then opened his mouth slowly to let Jim taste him as he tasted himself. 

The taste was heady, salty and sweet in the spice of Blair's mouth, making Jim's head swim. He moaned into his Guide's mouth, delighted when Blair swallowed the moan and licked at his lips. Lost in the heat of the kiss, it was a moment before Jim realized Blair was unbuttoning his shirt. Sensing Jim's attention diverting, Blair pulled back, stroking his Sentinel's face gently. 

"I'm going to undress you, now, so I can touch you. Is that all right?" 

Jim swallowed and nodded, glad of the storm outside for the first time. The once distant crashes of thunder were getting closer, obscuring the sound of his ragged breathing. Jim was confused as to why this comforted him, wondering why he should be embarrassed by his very breath. But Blair had finished with the buttons, so Jim dismissed the odd feeling and lifted himself momentarily so his shirt could be pulled from his shoulders. Jim lay back, bare-chested, and looked up at his Guide nervously. 

"Close your eyes, lover," Blair told him suddenly. "It's okay. Go on. Close them for me." 

Jim swallowed and did as he was told, surprised when Blair made no move to remove his jeans. Instead, he ran his hands over Jim's chest; slowly, soothingly. The Sentinel relaxed. It felt good. Better than good. It felt wonderful and he heightened his sense of touch to more fully experience it. With his senses dialed up, he felt it when Blair leaned over him, so he wasn't surprised when he felt a soft kiss bestowed upon his hairless chest. 

Blair kissed a path across his chest, pausing to lick at a nipple. Jim gasped and tensed, breathing hard as his nipple was licked again. Blair's tongue traced his hardening nub with delicate precision, and when his nipple was finally enveloped in the wet heat of his Guide's mouth, Jim moaned aloud. It felt incredible. It was that tickling sensation that always accompanied such stimulation that aroused him. It seemed to go on forever and stripped him of his ability to think. 

As Blair gently sucked his nipple, the big man felt a hand move to his groin, and when Blair cupped his hardness through his jeans, Jim began to pant. Moving to his other nipple, Blair gave it the same treatment, his hand massaging Jim's sex in time with his sucking. Jim moaned again and rolled his head to one side. 

Blair stroked him one last time before moving the hand higher and opening the button atop Jim's jeans. The Sentinel could feel every inch of the zipper as it was lowered. Blair leaned in then, whispering, "I'm gonna take these off. I want you to keep your eyes closed, Jim. Can you do that for me?" 

Jim moaned and nodded, his breath coming in short, harsh pants. Blair kissed him once, softly, on the lips, then moved down his body. Jim lifted his hips to make the removal of his jeans easier for his lover and he sighed desirously as he felt them pulled gently from his body, easing the pressure on his aching erection. Blair removed his socks with the same care before lacing his fingers in the waistband of Jim's boxers. 

"Still okay?" Blair asked, whispering the question from where he knelt by Jim's middle. Blair knew he could hear, Jim mused thoughtfully, knew his Sentinel would hear him if he whispered from a mile away. It _was_ better with someone who understood. Better still because that someone was _Blair_. Jim nodded once in response, his eyes still tightly shut, and Blair carefully lowered the undergarment over the older man's erection and pulled it free. 

The chill air in the tent assaulted Jim's sensitive flesh, making him shiver visibly. When Blair lay down beside him, however, he wrapped his arms around Jim and let his body-heat soothe the shaking Sentinel. While he warmed, Blair ran a hand down the planes of Jim's chest, pausing at his hipbone to run lazy circles around it. Jim marveled at the way Blair's hands moved. He seemed to know just when any specific kind of stimulation was too much. He alternately touched chest and thigh, hip and belly to keep Jim from zoning--his hand now teasing, now massaging. 

It was so good to be touched like this by his Guide; by the only one who knew _how_ to touch him. With Blair, Jim could let himself go without fearing a zone. But it wasn't enough. Blair wouldn't rush him. Jim was as sure of this as he was of his own name. But he felt, suddenly, gripped by a strange urgency. He neededmore. 

Turning his head, Jim opened his eyes to find his Guide gazing lovingly across the short distance separating their resting heads. "Blair" Jim's voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, "please, I need." Jim ground his teeth and shook his head in frustration. Why couldn't he say it? This was Blair, damn-it! His _Guide_. He could tell Blair anything. But before Jim could try again, his lover spoke up, his voice full of understanding and love. 

"It's okay, Jim. You don't have to say anything. I'll talk and move my hand. You just nod if it's what you want, okay?" 

Jim nodded and pulled Blair more fully into his arms, as if he feared Blair might change his mind and try to get away. But Blair made no attempt to separate them. Instead, he moved his hand down between them, skimming the muscled chest and hard belly before cupping the larger man's sex. 

Jim choked back a gasp. The feeling was indescribable. To have Blair touch his bare sex was like having his every wet dream thrust suddenly into the light of reality. It was almost too much to bear and Jim tightened his arms around his lover, irrationally afraid he might wake at any moment to discover it had all been a dream. 

"Is this okay, Jim?" Blair whispered, his tone somehow erotic and gentle simultaneously, "Is this what you want?" Unable to speak, Jim let out a soft moan and nodded, his eyes drifting shut. Blair took Jim's left hand with his free one and guided it down. "Do you want to touch me, too?" the younger man asked in his erotic whisper, their clasped hands hovering just above Blair's own straining erection. 

Jim nodded gratefully, releasing a breath as he felt their entwined hands wrapping around his Guide's length. Blair moved his lover's hand gently, stroking lightly; allowing Jim to become accustomed to the feel. So soft, Jim marveled. Soft, yet rock hard at the same time. Like iron wrapped in velvet. Was that how he felt to Blair? Jim was marveling still as he felt Blair move to disengage his hand. 

No! Don't make me do this alone, Blair! He tried to say the words, but all that came out was a strangled moan. It was too good; too good to be allowed this freedom--the freedom to give himself over to one he loved, trusted. The freedom to give control to Blair. Jim opened his mouth again, trying desperately to articulate his desires, but Blair must have divined his needs, for he entwined their fingers once again. With a sigh of relief, Jim relaxed as Blair moved their joined hands again over his sex. 

Blair whispered, "You just show me what you like, lover. Do to me what you'd like me to do to you. Tell me with your hand." Jim almost smiled at Blair's insight. He knew Jim communicated better with touch than through words and he was allowing his Sentinel to be himself. 

Cautiously, Jim allowed a thumb to skim the head of Blair's sex. Imitating the motion, Blair moved his thumb to run a slow circle over the top of Jim's cock, gathering the moisture there and spreading it around the sensitive head. Jim gasped and turned his head away, his back arching slightly. What Blair was doing to him was incredible. However Jim moved his hand, Blair imitated the motion. He tickled the flared head of Blair's erection, his own was tickled in turn. He squeezed, and was rewarded by an answering squeeze to his own hard sex. 

Silently, Jim thanked every God he'd ever heard Blair name for his Guide--for the fact that Blair didn't mind guiding this aspect of their relationship, too. It was as if the man had been born to it. Though he'd admitted he had no experience in this arena, he still remained the consummate teacher--the one whose destiny it was to Guide. And destiny it must be, for how else was he able to guide this encounter so expertly when he had no practical experience in matters of male/male sexual interaction? When he had so little understanding of what he was doing? Jim, himself, would have made a piss-poor Guide, he realized. He could barely handle the responsibility of Sentinel senses, let alone the vast responsibilities thrust upon a Guide. 

Suddenly, Jim understood something about their relationship he hadn't considered before. He wasn't _giving_ control to Blair, for Blair _had_ control already. He had from the very start. He'd simply allowed Jim his illusion of autonomy because he knew his Sentinel needed to believe he possessed it. And Blair did this for Jim easily, without the need for rationalization, as if functioning on instinct alone. This was his job; his place. He was meant to take the upper hand in this, as he did when dealing with Jim's senses. This knowledge freed the Sentinel yet further, and he relaxed into their union, allowing himself to revel in his own lack of responsibility. 

Blair's hand was moving faster now, and Jim couldn't stifle a cry of, "God, Blair, please!" Though Jim couldn't articulate his needs, Blair again proved his worthiness as Guide by anticipating them. As Blair moved his caressing hand down past Jim's balls and between his muscled thighs, the Sentinel gasped. But he nearly bit his tongue when Blair let just one finger drift lazily over Jim's perineum heading toward his lower cheeks. 

"Is this what you want, Jim? Is this what you need?" 

In response, Jim pulled his knees to his chest, moaning his approval as he felt a tentative finger circle the opening to his body. It was a barely-there touch, but at the ghostly contact, Jim shuddered, his entire body shaking. 

Blair knew, now. Knew what his Sentinel wanted, but couldn't ask for. Jim's desires had been made crystal clear when he'd pulled up his knees. Would it change the way Blair felt about him? 

"Let me give you what you need, lover. I'm your Guide. I'll always give you what you need." 

Jim turned his head back toward his Guide and buried his face in Blair's soft curls, loosing a sob of gratitude. No--not a sob. It was a cry of gladness and relief; a joyful noise. His Guide understood. Understood, accepted and wanted him still. With Blair, he didn't have to play the role of the aggressor. There was no need for dominance or power games. He could let that part of himself go and still be loved. 

Pushing his happy realizations aside for the moment, Jim allowed himself to become immersed in the feel of Blair's hand upon him. It was both glorious and strange to feel a finger not his own running over the puckered opening to his body. So powerful and erotic. Exciting in a way Jim had experienced only in fantasy. But suddenly, Blair pulled his hand away. Jim didn't even attempt to stifle his moan of protest. 

"Easy, lover," Blair soothed. "I'm not going anywhere. I just need a second, here. Just a second and everything'll be fine." 

Opening his eyes, Jim watched as Blair groped in the front pocket his knapsack. Plucking a small bottle from the pack, Blair flipped it open one-handed and the scent filtered across to Jim's nose. Aloe-vera. An all-natural, soothing balm that wouldn't adversely effect Jim's senses. That was his Blair. Always putting his Sentinel's needs first. Jim felt a warm smile spread across his own face at the thought and he watched quietly as his lover squeezed some of the fragrant gel into one palm. 

Blair returned his hand to its previous position and Jim couldn't help but flinch as the cool ointment was slicked over his anus. It was sticky, but it made Jim's skin tingle enticingly. Fascinated, Jim tried to relax his body as Blair slowly, and with far more gentleness than Jim could have managed had their positions been reversed, pushed the tip of one coated finger inside him. 

Jim felt, rather than heard, his own quick intake of breath before he began to tremble. Blair was touching him _inside_! That knowledge alone almost made him come. But clamping his teeth, Jim staved off his completion, determined not to miss this moment in their relationship. He could feel the finger working its way further inside him, past the clenching muscle at his opening. 

"Oh!" Jim's gasped as the finger sunk deeper, his soft exclamation not one of pain, but of desire. 

As if Blair sensed this, he moved the finger yet further, pushing it most of the way in. But it wasn't until Jim felt the nervous puckering of his entrance cease that Blair carefully withdrew the digit. Gel at the ready, Blair quickly squeezed more of the sticky lotion onto his hand, returning with two fingers before Jim managed more than a soft sigh of loss. When the two fingers were deeply inside, Jim felt something new. Blair was turning his fingers, scissoring them slightly as he worked the muscles in the heated place inside his love. 

Jim gasped and froze. He was still for a long moment, then tremors began to shake him, steadily increasing in intensity until he was trembling almost violently. It was so erotic; both sexy and wicked simultaneously. Jim could feel the flesh inside tingle everywhere the pale green ointment touched. It was so personal, having Blair touch him inside, but Jim needed more than fingers to fan the flame growing within him. 

"Now, Blair! Please!" 

"Once more, Jim," Blair assured him as he carefully withdrew his fingers, "Only once more and you'll be ready for me." 

Jim gave a soft wail at the words, but Blair would not be swayed. The younger man was in complete control and he took his command seriously. For Jim, this was exciting beyond belief, and when Blair returned with three fingers, the big man couldn't help but to push back against them; impaling himself on the digits wantonly. Jim was shocked by his own behavior; amazed that he could let himself go to such a degree; in awe that he could want something like this so desperately and be able to show it so openly. God! He needed Blair inside. Needed him _now_! 

"Blair!" Jim cried out, the word a sob of longing; a desperate appeal. 

"Okay, lover. On your side, for me. I need you to lay facing away from me on your side." 

Jim complied immediately, too far gone even to recognize the small moans issuing from deep within him. "Now, Blair. Now!" 

Unhurried by Jim's plea, Blair took a deep, steadying breath before spooning up behind his lover. Reaching down, the young Guide placed a reassuring hand on his Sentinel's well-muscled thigh. To his surprise, Jim discovered that Blair's hand was shaking. He'd been so concerned with his own physical and emotional needs, he'd forgotten that Blair must also be nervous. Unlike Jim, however, Blair's nervousness did not appear to affect his ability to reason, for he continued to take decisive steps to insure his partner's comfort. 

"We need to move this leg up a little, lover," Blair whispered as he stroked his lover's thigh. "Bend it and move it up for methat's right," he crooned as Jim complied. The Sentinel could feel Blair fumbling behind him, attempting to get a proper hold on his slippery cock. When he did, he brought it with the utmost care to his lover's entrance. Jim could feel Blair's hardness circling his opening and realized that Blair was trying to get him used to the feeling so entry wouldn't be a shock. Thoughtful and patient. That was Blair all over. 

"Are you ready, lover? Are you ready for me?" 

Blair might be thoughtful and patient, but Jim was beyond the need for such considerations. He didn't even attempt to respond verbally. Instead, he thrust himself back--hard--impaling half Blair's length within him in a single second. For the first time during this encounter, something Jim did seemed to shock the smaller man. 

Blair gave a strangled cry, then he simply froze. His arms had tightened around Jim's chest when the big man thrust back unexpectedly, but now he moved not a muscle, hardly seeming even to breathe. Jim grunted and stilled, worried by Blair's sudden quiescence. Only concern for his Guide gave the Sentinel enough control to speak. 

"Blair?" 

"I'm okay," Blair gasped out as his breath returned, "I just need a minute." Jim remained still as he listened to his lover's breathing. It was a moment before it began to even out, but when it did, Blair leaned up on an elbow and whispered urgently, "We have to go slow, Jim. You shouldn't have moved so fast. You could've hurt yourself." 

"Couldn't wait," Jim whispered in reply, "Felt too good." 

'Good' didn't come close to describing the feeling, but at the moment, Jim was unable to find words to accurately define the sensation. When Jim had pushed back against Blair, it had felt better than it had ever felt to be inside a woman. He could feel his own tightness and a burning heat that ran from his balls to his stomach as he experienced the elation of giving himself to another. Jim had never felt something so personal with one of the fairer sex. But at long last, Jim had opened himself to another. He had surrendered his will temporarily to one who could be trusted to care for it; never to abuse it. He had _given_ himself. Delivered _himself_ into Blair's keeping. 

He'd finally relinquished control. And it was good. So good to be Blair's. So wonderful not to worry. Jim couldn't believe the heady feeling of freedom, the joy in knowing that, at least for the moment, he would not to have to lead. Nothing was expected of him. He could just _be_. Jim knew it, deep in his soul. There was no room for expectations of any kind in their bed. All was need between them; the offering and receiving of love. 

Blair began rocking his hips very slightly then, and all thoughts were driven from Jim's mind as he joined his lover in the motion. He could feel the slippery slide of Blair within him, tickling the walls inside him, touching him as no other ever would. 

"Oh! So good," Jim cried, lost in the pleasure of the moment, "So good to feel you, Blair. To feel you inside me! I can feel everything! Everything!" 

And he could. 

He could feel the throbbing of Blair's sex as his need grew by slow degrees. He could feel the flared head of his lover's erection deep within and even make out the vein on the underside of his thrusting cock. Blair was slipping in and out with ease, now, sinking deeper with each rocking thrust. But it wasn't until Jim felt Blair's pelvis touching his buttocks that the big man cried out again, this time with more desire and joy than he'd ever felt. 

"God! Blair! Yes! Like that, lover! Just like that!" 

Jim no longer thought about his words. He let them come as they would, let himself say what was inside of him. He could do nothing else. Blair was touching a place inside him that gave him such pleasure, he was beyond caring what words he spoke. 

Some small part of his brain not lost in pleasure knew that Blair was touching his prostate; knew it was the seat of pleasure for the receiver during male/male intercourse. But Jim had never known it would feel like this. Oh, he'd known he wanted this kind of love with Blair, that it would give him pleasure, but he'd never realized that he could feel as if he were making love without being inside someone else. But with Blair touching the special spot inside him, that was exactly how it felt. Blair must have realized what was happening, for he adjusted his position, angling his thrusts to stimulate the pleasure center inside Jim. 

"Ahhh! Blair! That's it! Touch me, now! Please, I need to be touched! Blair!" 

Jim was holding on by a thread. And when Blair moved his hand around his lover's waist and took hold of his hard sex, Jim howled, thrusting into Blair's hand, then back against his cock with equal abandon. 

It was so goodso good, but oh! he hurt! Not from being penetrated. No, he'd gotten used to that quickly and rejoiced in the union. This was the other hurt. The good hurt. It was that ache that starts behind the scrotum; the one that travels up between your balls and into your body, putting such pressure on your cock you're almost in agony. The ache had been slow at first, a pounding throb. But when Blair took Jim's cock in hand, the throbs began to come closer and closer together until not even a fraction of a second pause passed between them. It had become a steady, forceful ache that nothing but completion could relieve. 

He could feel Blair pulsing rapidly within him now, close to the edge, and the hand around his cock loosened slightly as Blair buried his face between his lover's shoulder blades. 

"Don't stop touching me!" Jim cried, fearing Blair would come without him and stop the thrusting that was making him hurt in this wonderful way inside. "I need...please!" he wailed in anguish, unable to find the words he sought in the heat of the moment. 

Blair took a shaky breath and whispered, "It's okay, Jim." He could feel Blair's lips as he spoke; they were touching the back of his neck as puffs of breath caressed his shoulders. "I won't come without you," Blair assured him. "I know what you need, lover. I won't stop until you have it," he murmured decisively, "I promise, my love." 

The hand holding his cock increased its grip and the Sentinel could not help but cry out, "Blair!" Jim's teeth were chattering, but he barely noticed. "Harder! Please!" 

True to his word, Blair gave his lover what he needed, stroking harder with both hips and hand. And when Jim again shouted "Please!" Blair didn't hesitate, but began pulling almost viciously at Jim's straining erection as he thrust again and again, no longer slipping into Jim, but setting a pounding rhythm that soon matched the pounding of Jim's heart. Jim tossed his head to and fro, babbling incoherently as he was lost somewhere deep within himself. 

"Come for me, Jim," Blair whispered hotly into his lover's ear, "I want to feel you come while I'm inside you. Come for me and know that I love you with all my heart and soul." 

The words called Jim back to the here and now. The knowledge that what Blair desired more than anything else was to feel him come ripped all control from the Sentinel and he began to shriek. His hips bucked once, twice, then he came screaming and each cry was his lover's name: "BlairblairblairblairblairBlair!!" 

He felt something rip away inside him, then--some small doubt, some hidden fear--and leave his body through his cock, spraying out heavily before him. He'd been shattered inside and still, he came. He could feel his internal muscles clamp down on Blair's cock, squeezing it so tightly his Guide he cried out. The muscles clenched, then released, clenched, released, clenched, releasedand Blair came--hard--inside him. 

The rhythmic clenching around his lover's cock was incredible, adding to the force of Jim's own orgasm as, he suspected, a woman's contractions would. Even the feel of his lover coming inside him was extraordinary--a sensual miracle. Jim could feel every hot splatter that coated his trembling insides; scalding him within as his contractions pulled at Blair's cock and milked his climax from him forcefully. Jim nearly blacked out from the unexpected pleasure of it all. 

"Gods!! JIMMMMMM!!!" Jim held Blair's arms tightly, riding out his Guide's orgasm with his own. Jim's entire body shook with powerful tremors. He thought the shuddering would never end, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to remain here forever, his lover buried deeply inside him and feeling this pleasure. 

When his shaking finally did diminish, Jim felt so weak he couldn't even lift his head. Yet, as he caught his breath, he felt Blair lift his and pepper his muscled upper-back with a sprinkle of kisses. Jim made an "mmm" sound and pulled one of Blair's hands to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the palm before holding it to his cheek. Blair sighed at the gentle gesture, nuzzling contentedly at his lover's strong neck. 

"Blair?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Am I dead?" 

Blair snorted laughter. "No, man. Why--you're not gonna lay that old 'Cause I'm in Heaven' line on me, are ya?" 

A moment passed. 

"Well, no. Not anymore." 

Blair snickered. 

"How about, ' 'Cause I've been touched by an angel'?" 

"Oh, man. You've been watching _way_ too much TV." 

Jim rumbled laughter. "Oh, sure. You say that now. Now that you've had your way with me. _Before_ you took me to bed I was a _poet_." 

"And you still are. Just not in the literal sense." 

"Come again?" 

"You, my love, have the heart of a poet," Jim felt a kiss placed between his shoulder blades, "the body of a God," a soft kiss below his ear, "and the soul of a warrior," a peck on the shoulder. 

"I guess I can live with that," Jim responded pompously. Blair chuckled and moved to disengage their bodies. Jim snaked back an arm, catching Blair's retreating hips. "Don't. Stay. Please, Blair." 

"Of course, lover. Anything you want. I'm yours, Jim." 

Jim sighed in happy relief, hugging the arms around his middle tightly. He needed this connection to Blair, this intimate joining, as long it could be maintained. It grounded him. Made him feel carefree, open, happy. 

"Blair, is it always this good?" 

"Gods, I hope so. I'd hate to think it's all downhill from here." 

For some reason, this struck Jim as hilarious. He started to laugh and when Blair joined in, he laughed harder. It wasn't just Blair's humorous quip. It was more. It was like the two of them shared a private joke and were laughing at the expense of the entire universe. Damn, but it felt good to laugh! He and Carolyn had never laughed like this. Never laughed together in bed. 

By the time they wound down from their laughter, both men had tears in their eyes. Jim held his aching stomach, looking down at it with surprise. He couldn't ever remember laughing until his stomach hurt. 

Blair had softened and the movements of their bodies with hearty laughter conspired to separate them. "Ohhh!" Blair and Jim chorused with exaggerated mournfulness when their connection was lost. 

"I guess we shouldn't laugh when we're in this condition," Blair observed, looking down at their severed connection. 

Jim rolled over. "No, Blair. I always want to laugh in bed with you." 

Blair raised his eyebrows. "Always?" 

Jim smiled, feeling free. He could say anything, now. Do anything with Blair and speak of it without a care. He was certain of it. He knew it. He also knew he would never again be able to do so _without_ Blair. 

"How many questions do I have left, Chief?" 

"Questions? Oh! You have a bunch left. Why, is there something you need to ask me?" Jim nodded, a secret smile curling his lips. 

"Marry me?" 

Blair just stared at him, shock written clearly on his face. "This is the last time I play Truth or Dare with you," Blair teased, shaking his head in disbelief. And leaning forward, Blair whispered his answer in his lover's ear and for the first time in his life, Jim Ellison felt that all was right with the world. 

_The End_


End file.
